


The Chronicles of Steven Stone

by GreenfieldWriter



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:54:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24511144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenfieldWriter/pseuds/GreenfieldWriter
Summary: Steven Stone, the intended heir for the megacorp Devon, decides instead to run away, with resentment towards his father. With nothing but travel equipment and a Beldum stolen from his own father's laboratories, Steven sets out on a quest to carve his own destiny. Set against the backdrop of the Hoenn of 15 years before Ruby/Sapphire, where a crime war between rivaling terrorist groups tears Hoenn apart...
Kudos: 8





	1. Runaway

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction. I'm doing it for fun. That being said, any feedback/comments are appreciated, and I always like to see discussion about my work.

Joseph Stone stroked his beard with a concerned look on his face, staring out his office’s window. A large, beautiful room, with an even grander view, overlooking Rustboro City’s old town. Beautifully aesthetic buildings organized neatly, like monoliths, across the neighborhood’s lengths.   
There he stood, on top of the world. More specifically, at the top floor of his office building, which conveniently doubled as housing for him and Vera, and their boy Steven. His own father, Devon Stone, started the company with zilch. Little did Devon realize just how far his little leap of faith would carry him. Or perhaps he did. It was ingenuity and science. The company began as a mining corporation, selling ores on a small scale. The Hoenn region was, by Devon Stone and several key colleagues’ assessments, ripe for geological exploitation. Decades had past, and Joseph had only boosted the company to near regional dominance. He couldn’t count on his two hands how many competitors and small businesses had been outsourced and made obsolete by his company’s scientific devotion. And any real obstruction his progress was either immediately quashed or deemed too insignificant to deal with urgently.  
It was all so simple in his head. Really, anybody with half a mind for the art of negotiation and business could see it. Everyone saw something negative in the crime war but him. All Joseph could see was opportunity. The kind of opportunity that led to him getting a beefier profit. And that was priority number one. To make, to take, and the intelligence to know when and where was an opportunity to do so.   
After all, that kind of wisdom came with the job.  
Joseph heard a knock at his door. It was probably his assistant, Matty. He sat down at his desk and spoke.  
“Come in.” Joseph’s voice boomed, and he barely had to raise it. Important vocal training from his own father. Matty entered without hesitation.  
“Sir, I was in the lab with the team. They seem pretty damn excited about the import. Apparently, it’s quite rare even amongst its own species. A rare coloring.”  
“So the Unova Geological Community told me. I look forward to see it in action.”  
“Oh, believe me, sir. You won’t be disappointed. This--Beldum--is a powerful little thing.”  
“I am well-aware of it. Come Matty, have a seat.” Joseph invited his assistant into his office. Matty obeyed and sat across from Joseph, who rose from his seat to a cabinet on the wall further from the desk. The cabinet was protected by glass, but remained firm into the wall by some sleek wook brought in from Fortree City. Joseph extracted a bottle of Vintage Rustboro Magost 1959. Matty was aware that Joseph’s father was quite the avid brewer, and this was a batch he’d made a few years before his death. He was genuinely suprised Joseph would so casually flaunt the quality liquor.  
It probably meant the man had something of true importance to discussed.   
“My good Matthew...I believe it to be time you started training my Steven.” Joseph dropped this bomb with almost excessive calmness, pouring the liquor into two glasses.   
“Sir...I hardly believe I’m ready--or even capable, to train an heir!” Matty hushed once he detected his voice rising at the end of his sentence. He didn’t like to appear meek before his employer.  
“Someone has to do it. And you and I both know full well how busy I am. I’ve hardly the time to bring little Steven up to speed….and I’m sure you also know of how tied up I am right now, with the Pyre fellows and the CPP needing more, more, more… I have no time to myself, let alone Steven. You, my friend, have patience, and time in spades. So I decide.”  
The assistant had little idea of how to respond. He made an attempt to, however; “I can’t do this, sir. It’s beyond my capabilities.”  
“No, it’s not.” Joseph spoke with a firm finality and an almost indisputable confidence. It was why he was so highly respected amongst the world’s leaders. “You underestimate yourself. I’ve taught you most of what I know.” He gave a wry smile. Emphasis on the most.  
With a withheld sigh, Matty found that succumbing to Joseph’s will was inevitable, in hindsight. There wasn’t much else he could do, and if he was being completely honest with himself, a small part of him found excitement at the thought of grooming the heir. It would be his most important task ever, though, and he didn’t want to trivialize it in anyway.  
Frankly, he was giddy, if nervous. Joseph nodded a dismissal, and Matty rose out of the leather chair. “Thank you, sir. I’ll keep you updated.” He promptly left the office.

-

Steven Stone sat on a bench near the Pokemon Center. Two trainers, rookies by his assessment, were battling ferociously. He observed in curiosity. One of them pitting their Poochyena against the other’s Lotad. He was a young lad, at 14, with a lot on his mind and nowhere to put it. Battles interested him, sure, as they did most boys his age, but he, like his own father, inherited a curiosity for science, and rocks. Gemstones. Crystals. Steven loved them all.   
Eventually, the battle subsided, and the two trainers went their own ways. It was rare to see trainers so young these days. Steven continued sitting on the bench, staring into space, and heard a familiar call. “Steven.”  
Steven snapped out of his trance and glanced sideways. He smiled slightly, with melancholy. “Wallace. I thought you’d left already.”  
“I thought so as well.”  
“So..?”  
Wallace said nothing. He sat down next to Steven, and took out a small Pokeball from his pocket. “You know, I could let you take a spin with Feebas. I know it’s not much, but--”  
“Well, if THAT isn’t the understatement of the year.” Steven chuckled to himself in bitter irony. Even Wallace had to laugh, both were aware of how pathetic Wallace’s Pokemon was.   
“Like I said. It’s not much, but until you get one of your own, well, there’s not a lot of fun to be had, man.”  
“I just have to convince my dad, Wallace. I need a Pokemon of my own. Every kid my age has gotten one already.”  
“We’ve already talked about this, man. I agree with you. There’s nothing to disagree on. If you want I can be with you when you talk to him.”  
“Thanks, but no. I need to do this myself. He already thinks I’m too distracted from everything.”  
“Alright, man. For the record, we do have one day left.” Wallace grinned his usual mischievous smile. Steven raised an eyebrow. “I thought your ferry to Sootopolis was today.”  
“It was.”   
“So what’s the plan, then? How’re you gonna get back?”  
“Leave the worrying to me, dear Steve. And Matty. Let’s just go to Rusturf or something. I know you like the rocks, even though they bore the hell out of me.”  
“They’re not rocks.”  
“Gems, crystals, whatever you call them. I just want to see you enjoy yourself. Plus your nutty enthusiasm always makes it less of a snooze.”  
Steven grinned, and the two ran off, through the quieter neighborhoods of Rustboro, en route to some minor call to adventure. 

-

Professor Larch jotted a note down on paper. It was really quite a strange creature, this ‘Beldum’. The investigation crew had put a little chip full of data into its thick glass enclosure. The Pokemon had taken an interest in the chip, and tapped the chip with its head. Then, it left with no further reaction. After a few hours, after removing the chip from the enclosure, the crew discovered, to their surprise, that the cold chip was completely devoid of anything. No data, no files, nothing.   
After several further experiments, Larch deduced that the levitating Pokemon was somehow able to absorb data, and even electrical signals, through what he hypothesized as magnetism.   
‘Beldum’ seemed to have no discernible behavioral patterns. Occasionally, it tapped on the glass in which it was imprisoned, but otherwise, it showed no signs of any real emotional reaction.   
Larch wondered if the Pokemon could perhaps detect electrical signals passing through the earth, and locate mining spots. Or maybe Beldum could be used as a tool to intercept messages passed between members of Team Pyre and Team Ocean? Maybe that tool could be extended to espionage against other companies? Or, he thought diabolically, perhaps even against entire nations? Could Hoenn finally lift itself off the ground and truly become a utopia similar to what seemed to be most of human civilization? And would it truly all come down to this little metal eyeball?  
Well, could it?   
Taking all of it into consideration dizzied the professor. And it made him realize something. More tests and experiments needed to be done on the creature before he reported his already incredible findings to Mr. Stone. Some of these experiments, he thought ruefully, would be painful, but he hoped not to push the little thing too far.   
Then again, though, it didn’t seem to possess much of any emotion. 

-

One week had passed since Wallace’s departure, and Steven was still feeling drenched in his own loneliness. There was nobody to hang out with in town, no friends, nothing. His dad had adamantly kept him out of school, claiming it wasn’t the right place for a burgeoning CEO.   
Suddenly, Steven felt immensely grateful he even had Wallace. And that meeting was by pure serendipity as well. A few years back, his sickly mom, Vera, had just barely convinced Joseph to allow him to accompany him on a business trip to Sootopolis. They’d traveled by jet. Steven had hoped for some time to speak with his father on the craft, but whenever he wasn’t calling someone in Sootopolis to pre-arrange everything, he was napping. Power naps, he so called them. As far as Steven knew, his dad never slept for more than thirty minutes at a time.   
Wallace and his mentor Juan had been tasked to accompany Steven and his dad to the local gym, where Juan and Joseph would discuss some venture which involved a massive shipment of equipment to the relatively isolated city, as well as provision of basic services, such as plumbing. Steven hadn’t even realized his dad’s company was in control of things to that extent. It surprised him, but for some reason he didn’t find himself reveling in the sheer power of it.   
While the adults talked business, Wallace and Steven got around to talking, and soon enough, they became fast friends. Steven was more of an introvert, and took some time to come out of his shell. Wallace on the other hand? The kid was a talker, and he prattled on to Steven endlessly, with almost no interruptions. He liked art, he liked swimming, he liked some boy at his school...it never seemed to end.  
And Steven loved it. The two spent the entire four-day business trip together, Wallace showing Steven every cool nook and cranny in his strange city. He showed him his laughably pathetic Pokemon, which Juan had given him; a Feebas. A large Feebas, but a helpless Feebas nonetheless.  
And every few months since then, Joseph had allowed for visits. Sometimes to Sootopolis, and sometimes paying for Wallace’s delivery to Rustboro. They would spend at least a month together.   
The older they got, the more open Wallace became about his gayness. Steven didn’t really like girls, and he didn’t really like boys, and so he never quite understood Wallace’s love for boys, but he didn’t particularly care. Everything he’d learned was from movies, books, and music, and occasional trips here and there, where he’d examine minerals. None of that ever had to do with romance or friendship.   
He knew his father would frown upon him if he engaged in art or humanities. He would’ve claimed it unfit for a budding leader, and lambasted the boy for participating in such crude banalities. He would’ve insisted Steven remain a pragmatic, contained island. Ha, Steven thought, if only he knew how much I’d learned about art and love, just from Wallace alone. He knew that would make him blow a gasket more than anything else in the world.  
And at the end of the day, that was the biggest reason he detested Joseph Stone.   
So one week after Wallace had left, Steven decided upon it. He was going to steal the Pokemon he’d heard his father raving about all weak. He’d probably never get another shot at owning a Pokemon again.  
He’d already formulated a plan. That night, his father would be out at some convention, talking to a bunch of suits. He knew where Joseph kept all of his keys, and that the Pokemon was located somewhere down in the labs. Most scientists that worked for his father didn’t stay up any longer than around nine, so he hoped the lab would be empty for his heist.   
And his mother was far too sick to do anything about it.

-

It was ten o’clock, and so far, the plan had gone off without a hitch. Joseph Stone left the apartment to attend the conference at exactly nine-thiry. His mother was in bed, watching her TV program. He opened up the secret cabinet that held the key wall, removed the key labeled ‘LAB’, and tiptoed out of the apartment, heading for the stairs. Steven figured that getting stuck on the elevator was far too big a risk, or getting caught on the way down.   
The stairs, from a logical perspective, were an easy choice.   
But hiking thirty flights downwards can be quite dizzying, Steven now knew. He kept worrying that someone would pop out of a door and catch him, or hike up or down to him, and he’d have nowhere to hid, but to his pleasant surprise, the entire trip went cleanly. He eventually found himself facing the door labeled ‘LABORATORY: AUTHORIZED ACCESS ONLY’.   
With a deep breath and jittery hands, Steven unlocked the door and pushed it open slowly.   
The door creaked very slightly, and he winced at every moment of it. He shrunk himself down as he entered the room, attempting to make as little noise as humanly possible. Unfortunately, the lab was massive, with desks and tools and instruments and machines everywhere the eye could possibly see. Steven groaned internally and started exploring around.  
Which was when he heard faint music coming from around some large tubular metal container. He slowly peeked around the corner and his heart stopped beating.  
It was Professor Larch.   
With two earbuds in his ears, humming to himself some song, whilst writing something down.   
Steven reflexively retracted his head back with so much speed, he thought his head would fly off his neck. And then, he slowly took another peek.   
He observed Larch at his desk, which was scattered with papers and various electronic devices. But all of that was boring to Steven. What really caught his eye was the metallically sheened creature staring at him.  
Steven’s heart nearly jumped when he caught its gaze.   
But for some crazy reason, he immediately calmed down. Steven peered into the Pokemon’s eyes, and felt as if the creature was somehow...channelling pleas for help into his head? It tickled his head a little, almost as if he was being electrocuted very slightly. Steven nodded to the creature, with as much conviction as he could muster.   
Unfortunately, the movement of his head made the preoccupied professor not so occupied. He turned to look in Steven’s direction. Steven immediately whipped his head back and tiptoed between the machines. He heard the professor remove his earbuds.   
“Who’s there?” There was alarm in Larch’s voice.  
Steven froze, refusing to make a peep.   
He heard a click. “I’m armed. Whoever you are, show yourself, and I won’t hurt you.”  
When still no sound was produced, the professor spoke again. “I promise.”  
At this point, Steven was terribly tempted to give up his mission. It all seemed so crazy now that he thought about it. Rescuing his dad’s captive Pokemon and taking it as his own? Who was to say the Pokemon would even stick by him? What would his dad say? Would his mother even defend him?  
But before he could further bury himself in self-doubt and worthlessness, he felt his head tickle and his spirits rise. No. The Pokemon adamantly refused to let him give up. And Steven owed the Pokemon its best attempt to rescue it from its prison, even if it wouldn’t choose to follow him.   
So slowly, but ever so slowly, the boy made his way around the machines. He barely made it to the other side of the mini-hallway created by the machines when Larch burst round the corner and yelled. “I’ve got you!”  
But nobody was there. Steven started creeping faster towards the container, spurred on by the Pokemon’s wills. It directed his hands, his mind, and he found himself opening up a panel of space…  
And the creature emerged, chanting its name into his brain; BELDUM!   
It nearly gave him a headache, the sheer force of the thought was just so powerful. But clearly it hadn’t affected him as brutally as Larch, for he heard the professor drop to the floor and start wailing in agony. The cries were absolutely dreadful, but Steven felt guilty with relief.   
Beldum hovered over him, conveying thoughts of gratitude towards Steven. He slowly levitated around the corner into the hall of machines. Steven followed it, right to Professor Larch. The Pokemon levitated slightly more, then slammed itself into the professors head, pulverizing the man. Steven heard the excruciating crack of metal on skull.  
Steven winced and started whimpering, nearly bursting into tears. Had Beldum just murdered his dad’s top scientist? It was all his fault! His father would kill him, Or he’d turn him into juvenile detention or worse, he would deny him the outside world entirely.  
But Beldum conveyed thoughts of bliss, and Steven found that those thoughts had less of a grip on him now. He took a deep breath and eased himself mentally. He checked the professor for head wounds and if he was still breathing.  
To his searing relief, the professor was fine, aside from a vicious shade of purple decorating his forehead.   
Steven took a long look at the Pokemon levitating above him. “Do you want to come with me? I’m leaving this place.”  
Beldum didn’t really react, but conveyed something jumbled and confusing. Steven hazarded that the Pokemon felt rather ambiguous.  
“Well, we need to leave, and I don’t have anybody outside. And I’m guessing you don’t either. So what do you say?”  
Finally, Beldum came up with an answer.  
Steven smiled, and the two hurried back to the apartment.

-

Joseph Stone had punched several holes in the drywall of his master bedroom. He could not believe--Hell, he couldn’t even wrap his head around what had happened. Beldum had escaped, and supposedly with the help of his own son.   
Young Steven, the heir of the Devon throne, had snuck into his own company’s home laboratory, and stolen a damn Pokemon. And nobody knew where either son or Pokemon were. When he told Vera about Steven’s disappearance, she began to break down sobbing. Without intending it, tears began to well up in Joseph’s eyes as well, which prompted a vicious, furious angry beating of the walls.   
Joseph found it easier to deal with anger than sadness. One could more easily dispose of anger. Sadness was an unproductive emotion. Anger could be channelled into strength and adrenaline, much more valuable than anything despair could harvest.   
And thus, rather than feel sad about his son’s disappearance, Joseph put every bit of energy he had into pure, unadulterated vex.   
Now he found himself explaining to two odd looking strangers, purportedly bounty hunters, the situation in as vague possible terms as he could, at a parking lot near his office building. He gave them each a small picture of Steven, and instructed them to bring the boy back alive. And the two bastards had demanded half of the fee upfront. Ten-thousand dollars. Ten-fucking-thousand. Each.  
Clearly, these bounty hunters had sniffed the desperation permeating off him. Joseph castigated himself for letting it show.   
After much arguing, Joseph furiously agreed to shell out twenty-thousand. Scott, one introduced himself as. The other was Rhonda. They looked stupid, but Joseph had heard from several people that they were some of the best around, if the cheapest and most discreet.  
The bounty hunters took turns shaking Joseph’s hand, the deal was agreed upon. They would receive forty-thousand by the end of the chase, and Joseph would receive his son. Alive.  
Joseph had to stop himself from venomously smiling when he thought of the punishment he’d wreak upon Steven when the boy was brought back to him, kicking or screaming.


	2. The Escape

A drawer full of Pokedollars had been emptied with absolute impunity. Steven Stone’s room was left looking relatively normal. Certainly not the room of a runaway, or the room of a renegade trainer. The bathroom was clean, though trace remains of blue-silver hair scattered the carpet and marble flooring.   
In Steven Stone’s closet, carefully hung up was the tailored suit Joseph had designed for the boy a year ago, left by Steven to collect dust. In his head, that was the ideal result. He hoped never to wear the formal attire ever again.   
In his fantastically hairless head, that is. It had been a strange experience for Steven to look at his bald reflection in the mirror. His father had thrown more than a few parties in their house, and every stranger, nearly without exception, would vocally admire Steven’s wonderful hair. Its shapeliness, its color, everything about it seemed to excite people.  
There was a sense of catharsis about abandoning his old appearance, and adopting a new one. Steven had picked out the most casual clothing he could find that would still be practical for travel. There would be no private jet. There would be no fancy yacht. It would be him, Beldum, and the elements.   
Already en route to the nearest Pokemon Center, in the dead of night, Steven took yet another glance at the strange and wonderful Pokemon. Beldum. The Pokemon had made the conscious decision to help Steven figure his way out in the world.   
He’d read several books on Pokemon Training that Wallace had lent him from Juan’s library. One needed to make sure their Pokemon was well-fed, and well-trained in battle, in the event that either trainer or Pokemon companion was attacked. Steven wasn’t sure what moves Beldum knew or could be taught, but Wallace had told him that Pokeballs automatically analyzed the Pokemon inside to identify its moves, typing, and abilities. Sudden waves of discouragement overcame Steven’s mind, and he realized quickly that Beldum was the cause.   
“What?!”   
He detected faint amusement from Beldum, but Beldum remained firm, and emphasized his point with two words. No container.  
Ah. So Beldum viewed the Pokeball as another form of prison. “But Beldum--it’s not like tha--”  
He was interrupted by Beldum shooting sharp, razor-edged thoughts into his mind. It had been forcefully captured. The memory was so vivid that Steven felt as if his body was metallic. He stopped walking down the quiet alleyway, and fell to the floor, touching his skin to check out of the morbid fear that his skin wasn’t metal. It wasn’t.   
Beldum continued projecting its memory into Steven’s head. The time spent in the Pokeball had been months on end, and there’d been painful shocking every time Beldum tried to escape. Steven knew this was different from the usual, trainer-used Pokeballs, which made time feel faster within the ball. He’d never heard of such Pokeballs, that locked a Pokemon inside and prevented escape so violently. “Oh, dear lord...”  
The memory faded away as Beldum retreated its powerful tendrils from Steven’s mind, and he felt relief. “Listen, Beldum, if you really don’t want to be kept inside a ball, I won’t force you. I just thought it’d be convenient for both of us. I guess not.”  
Relatively soon, the unlikely pair found themselves entering a Pokemon Center. Steven couldn’t believe it was his first time actually being inside of one, and with his own partner Pokemon to boot.   
The place was a lot bigger than he’d imagined. The ceiling towered over him. The floor consisted of bright yellow squares, and in the center of the large lobby, a Pokeball symbol could be seen. A few nurses hurried to and fro. In the distant corner of the Pokemon Center was a small kiosk, a part of Silph’s PokeMart brand. If there was one thing Steven knew about, it was the history of the Kanto megacorp Silph. His dad had handed it to him and told him to read it. It was the first book he’d recommended to him, and so Steven devoured it voraciously.   
Only to discover that it wasn’t as interesting as gemstones, old monoliths, and Pokemon.   
The nurse seemed busy with a few other patients, so while he waited for the chance to heal Beldum from any injuries sustained by Professor Larch’s experimentation, he went to the video call service section and put in a coin. He dialed in Wallace’s PokeNav number, and waited for a few seconds.   
After just a moment, Wallace answered, his face blipping onto the computer screen. “Steven? What the fuck! What in tarnation did you do to your hair?! And what in the name of Rayquaza are you doing in a Center?”  
“I ran away from home. I actually did it,” Steven whispered.   
“No way. You’re kidding.” Steven’s face affirmed that, no, he was not. Wallace’s face dropped. “Holy...That’s...awesome. What’s the plan?”  
“So...one sec…” Steven pulled out a map. “I have a map. And from what I can tell, the halfway point between Sootopolis and Rustboro is...uh...Fortree. Fortree City. I’m headed for there. You meet me there, I’ll call you whenever I can. I ditched my Nav.”  
“Smart move, my good lad. Alright. I like that plan. But...it’s pretty dangerous. You know that, right? Team Pyre is crawling all over the place around your area.”  
“Yeah...about that.” Steven moved out of view of the camera, and allowed Beldum to present itself. Wallace only stared. “I’ve--never seen that. What is it?”  
“Beldum. Apparently. My father had it shipped in from Unova. It has some truly astonishing powers.”  
“Oh, man...Alright. Well, I sure hope that...thing can protect you.”  
“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Take care, Wallace. I’ll see you in Fortree City.”  
“I can’t believe this is actually happening...what the fuck…alright. See you there, Steve.” Wallace hung up, but not before calling Steven by his hated nickname. Steven had to chuckle at that.   
He looked at the map again. “Route 116 it is,” Steven murmured to himself. Beldum just bobbed around near his head.   
It was just a few blocks down to get to the Eastern Exit. Steven wasn’t sure if Joseph had gotten home yet, but he certainly didn’t want to be in the area for much longer than truly necessary. And with the decision fully made in his mind, he set off for Verdanturf Town.

-

Matty was miffed, to put it lightly. In just the space of one week, no, one lousy evening, he’d been demoted from groomer of the heir to a pathetic lackey to the two dumb brutish bounty hunters Joseph had employed. His employer had deemed it Matty’s partial responsibility to bring the truant back home.   
Scott had given him a companionable smack on the back before they set off, scouring first the streets of Rustboro. Rhonda was more quiet, but Matty could tell that she disliked him. It was obvious to anyone who knew to look for it.  
It bothered Matty that he was so much less physically imposing than either of them. Scott was a muscular fellow, if on the shorter side. And Rhonda looked like she could snap necks. Her nails, more like claws, gleamed like crystals in the streetlights as they strolled about purposefully. He gulped. Better not get on their wrong side.   
“Go, Grumpig!” Scott said, throwing his Pokeball into the air. A Grumpig appeared before them, jolly and already busy dancing. Scott caught the Pokeball and grinned at Matty and Rhonda. “Think you can top my boy?”  
“Umm--I don’t have a Pokemon.”  
Scott laughed, and it sounded like a foghorn to Matty’s ears. But he didn’t say anything.   
Rhonda let her Swellow out of its Pokeball without a word, and it flew around a bit before perching on her forearm. That was when Matty noticed some type of fabric wrapped around her wrist. He saw the Swellow’s sharp talons sinking into it, and vividly imagined its claws stabbing into his flesh. He gulped again.  
Rhonda had to have caught the nervous look on her face, for she scoffed. “It won’t hurt you.” She reached into her pocket to extract a small sack. “Not unless I tell it to.” She opened the sack, and Swellow bent its head inside it.   
“Is that its food?” Matty asked.   
Rhonda responded with a brisk nod. “These are just seeds. But Swellow hunts.”  
“Can you two stop talking for a sec? You guys are throwing Grumpig’s dancing off.”   
Matty was downright terrified of the psychic Pokemon. With just a mere thought, it could probably fold him into a pretzel. Or worse. He’d heard stories. Psychic types were dangerous if angered. And right now the heir had run off with one, throwing all caution to the wind. Matty gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. He’d find the little jackass. And he’d make sure Joseph knew it was he who’d found his son.  
“Aha. Alright. I think old Pigster’s onto something.” The Grumpig was dancing more fervorously now, sniffing the air and prancing about with its stubby legs. Its tail was swirling about in an infinite pattern, which was dizzying. And even more dizzying were the lights flashing from the gems upon its head, a glare that hurt the eye to look at, like a bright flash of blinding lightning. Matty turned away and saw Rhonda do the same. Her Swellow was getting agitated by the display of psychic power, but Rhonda’s strokes of its feathers were keeping it quiet and in control.  
And then it all abruptly stopped.  
The Grumpig inhaled deeply, then nodded towards Scott.  
“We need to go down Route 116. That’s the image Grumpig’s sending to me. We’ve been there before, luckily. Good ol’ Pigster.” He scratched the Pokemon behind the ears, and Grumpig gave a delighted squeal, which put Matty further on edge. At least they finally knew where to go.   
Rhonda nodded. “I reckon he doesn’t want to go anywhere North, not with Team Pyre in Lavaridge. He’s probably headed for Verdanturf.”   
“Mhm,” Scott replied. Then he looked at Matty with a patronizing stare. “You ready, boyo?”  
Matty found it in him to respond. “Yes. I’m ready.”  
He nibbled on his nails the entire time they walked to the Eastern Exit.

-

“Froslass! Ice Beam!” Glacia shrieked, wheezing from exhaustion. The phantasmal creature lifted her head, generating a ball of pure ice energy in her gaping maw. Glacia knew they were both running low on fuel. But she wasn’t going to quit her pursuit. She certainly didn’t plan on it.  
Froslass blasted a powerful beam of raw, potent ice energy out of her mouth, directed at her enemy’s Darmanitan, which by this point, had run out of heat to sustain itself. The usually manic beast was slowing down, the flames in its belly simmered to almost nothing.   
Even her query, Grinjazz, knew it. He looked at his Darmanitan with horror. “Darmanitan! Dodge it!”  
The creature barely had the energy to obey. It leapt out of the way of the Ice Beam attack, stumbling over itself and collapsing. “Use Work Up!” The Darmanitan let out a primal roar and started tightening the coiling and sinuous muscles in its body.   
Glacia knew what Grinjazz was planning and feared it. He wanted to get his Darmanitan energized, while it had the chance. She reacted immediately. “Froslass! Astonish!”  
Froslass became invisible to the casual eye and snuck up behind the Darmanitan, which was still using Work Up. “No no no! DARMANITAN!”  
But Darmanitan didn’t hear its master. It was too preoccupied working itself up. And by the time it was done, it was too late. Froslass smacked her phantom arms against Darmanitan’s hide. It barely did any damage, Glacia knew. But if she was lucky, the Darmanitan would flinch, and lose any time it bought with Work Up.   
And she was. The Darmanitan gave a high squeal of surprise and turned around to see its attacker in horrified confusion. “Now Froslass! While it’s confused, finish it with Shadow Ball!” Froslass, excitedly, gathered pure phantasmal energy into its mouth, and fired a Shadow Ball into Darmanitan’s head.  
She wasn’t holding back as she did in professional battling. This was war. It was unfortunate, but she was resigned to her task as it was. The Shadow Ball contained all the energy her Froslass had been able to muster. It penetrated through Darmanitan’s eyes and shattered its skull.   
The tool of Team Pyre was put to death. An extremely bloody one, at that. Glacia only hoped it had been somewhat painless. The Darmanitan had only been doing as it was commanded. Her Froslass, depleted of all its accessible energies, fell from its hovering position, fainting. Glacia rushed closer to the scene of the battle to return Froslass. And to kill Grinjazz.  
Grinjazz stared at his Pokemon with an expression so full of heartbreak and shock that Glacia almost empathized with him. Almost. She pulled her arm back and hurled a Pokeball as close as possible to Grinjazz. Her Beartic emerged. “Beartic! Use Brick Break!”  
Beartic turned its carnivorous lusterous black eyes to the Team Pyre admin. The admin had barely time to react before Beartic slammed a massive paw against his spine, paralyzing him. He fell to the ground, his back snapped into an awkward position like a frail insect. Humans had evolved to resist most Pokemon attacks. But they were still vulnerable to their sheer power. Beartic moved in to finish the job, and finish the carcass as well, but Glacia put up her hand. “I wish I could allow it, my dear friend. But we must bring the body back. And I feel the man must suffer. If just for a little.”  
Grinjazz’s limp face groaned in agony.  
The disappointment in her Beartic’s face was palpable. But he understood. Beartic hoisted the paralyzed body over his shoulder, jostling some bones.  
Together, the two made their way to the Fallarbor Town Pokemon Center, where Glacia hoped to report victory.


	3. Enjoyment

_A snippet of an interview between the Slateport Review newspaper and Champion Edwinth, 1992:_  
SR: Well, what’s your approach to keeping the region safe? What do you think needs to happen?  
CE: Let me tell you, Brink. I’m not really sure. These Grundlin suckers, they’re no pushovers, but so far I feel as if the situation is under control. You know? Every region’s got its bad apples.   
SR: Sure, but some would say the Pokemon League Administration isn’t doing nearly enough to prevent all the crime that’s been plaguing cities like LaRousse, Rustboro, Slateport...I mean, I could go on.  
CE: I think you’re overdramatizing the issue. So there’s a bunch of thugs running around in the streets. I don’t know what you feasibly expect me to do here, Brink.   
SR: I dunno. A lot of our readers want to create city militias.   
CE: Well, there just aren’t a whole lot of trainers out there ready to put themselves and their Pokemon on the line. It’s life or death.   
SR: Unfortunately, the Administration’s inaction seems to be causing the latter.  
CE: We HAVE been active! We’re trying! There’s just...too much at stake to declare war.  
SR: A civil war, at that.  
CE: Yeah! Exactly. There’s already too much chaos as is. I don’t want to stoke even more flame.   
SR: Look, Ed. I trust you. I’ve been on your side since you were crowned Champion. And I’m not looking to stop supporting you. But...Hoenn needs the Champion. Don’t you see what I’m saying?  
CE: Yeah. I guess.

-

It was a precautionary action, one that Joseph needed to take regardless of what his bounty hunters wrought. Business and development couldn’t just come to a halt because of his son’s truancy. That was ridiculous. As always, life had to go on. He left the apartment and descended one flight of stairs. He placed a key card against a door, and upon hearing a bright beep, walked into a long narrow hallway. For a few moments he strolled and then turned into a conference room, empty. The room had a large window, which let in the glorious Hoenn sunshine. A rectangular table sat in the middle, with absolutely nothing on it save for a button. He’d scheduled something a few hours after it became clear Steven had no intention of coming back. One of his subordinates had had their meeting delayed. Joseph didn’t care. It was his company. He made the rules.   
It had also brought him much satisfation to put Matty to the task of finding the boy. If Matty were to be the boy’s tutor, he should put his skills to the test here. It felt so damn good to lord over others.   
Joseph turned on the large screen with a press of a button on the pristine glass table. He had always loved the lusterous sheen of glass, and stroked it with his knuckles satisfyingly. He’d managed to put aside all thoughts of his son. Gone for one day so far. He scoffed at the idea of his son managing to keep himself hiking for long. The boy was frail. He’d made sure never to let his son go outside for very long. When Wallace was around he was lenient. He hated the boy.   
Vera would go into conniptions once he told her what their boy Steven had done. He dreaded the conversation, but knew it was inevitable. Even the thought of Vera summoning the energy to be angry with him brought a smile to his face.   
Quickly he quashed the smile, and spoke into the air the number of a certain Professor Juniper. The TV turned on and dialed the number. Soon, Juniper’s face was visible on the formerly dark screen.   
“Joseph? What is it you wanted to talk about?” The Professor asked, answering from his laboratory computer.   
“Ah! Cedric. So good to talk to you. Is that a new haircut?” Joseph feigned an enthusiasm he didn’t feel.  
“No. Listen. Just tell me what it is you want. I’m extremely busy.” The professor hoisted up a small orange Pokemon onto his desk. “Open your mouth, please, Tepig.” He looked inside the creature’s mouth.  
“Am I interrupting something, Ced?” Joseph asked, barely keeping the impatience out of his tone.   
“No, no. Just get to what it is you want.”   
“If you insist, my dear friend. See, I’ve run into some minor complications with this...Beldum you sent me, and--”   
Cedric cut in with a groan. “What happened, Joseph? Please don’t tell me what I think it is.”  
“That depends on what you think it is.”  
“Please don’t tell me it escaped.”  
“Escaped is a bad term. More...liberated.” Joseph smiled congenially. Cedric’s face contorted in frustration.  
“By whom?!”  
“That’s not of importance. Here’s the deal, Cedric. I--”  
“No! That is of massive importance! If that Pokemon got into the wrong hands, well...dear lord. What have you done?”  
Joseph was beginning to get angry. “Listen, friend. I have the situation under complete control. Don’t worry your little head. What I need from you is another Beldum, if you so please. I’ll pay double for this one.”  
“Are you out of your mind? Have you any idea how rare Beldum is?” Cedric grit his teeth.  
“No. But I assume your scientific research could handle just a little bit more funding, wouldn’t you say?”  
“Money… is not the problem here, Joseph. The problem is that I can’t just ‘go out’ and find another Beldum. These Pokemon are incredibly rare.”  
Joseph sighed, and nearly slammed a fist against the table. Damn this. Damn this man. “Very well, Cedric. Do make sure to contact me if you do manage to come into ownership of another. I shall be waiting eagerly. Good doing business with you.”  
“Joseph. Let me be frank with you. We are indeed in possession of a Beldum. One Beldum. But I don’t have any intention of parting with it, especially with an irresponsible profit-driven fellow such as yourself. Good doing business with you as well.”  
Cedric hung up the phone. The TV screen went black again. Joseph clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly, and growled. Damn him.

-

The hike through Route 116 had been grueling. Steven was sweating his pores out by the time he’d spotted the inn, at around eveningtime. It was only through Beldum’s constant spurrings of his confidence and strength that he’d been able to push himself to such extreme limits. Deep down he feared the Pokemon ever so slightly, how it was able to manipulate him so easily. Did he even genuinely like the creature? Or was that just another layer of Beldum’s manipulation. Maybe he was being fooled. But oddly enough he couldn’t find a reason to care. Perhaps that was just another one of Beldum’s manipulations.  
Steven doubted it. The little metallic creature bobbed alongside him as they approached the inn. As they got closer, Steven was surprised to hear a chorus of voice and noise coming from inside. Ah. So it seemed many traveled along the route. A pleasant surprised. Steven would’ve hated to be alone in the inn. At the same time, he was gripped by paranoia that somehow somebody would recognize him. It was unlikely, but certainly not impossible.  
Steven opened the door of the inn, letting the draft in. A bell attached to the door jingled. The innkeeper and several guests looked his way, their eyes resting for a particularly long time on Beldum, before they went back to their conversation. Beldum was intimidated, Steven could sense it. The small creature floated down behind him. The innkeeper called out to him, “Boy! Need a place to sleep?”  
Steven nodded. “Yeah.”   
The innkeeper gestured him towards the desk. “Pay up. Three-hundred.”  
Steven walked towards the desk and pulled his wallet out. He fished the money out and handed it to the innkeeper, who took it greedily. “Take whatever room you want upstairs.”  
So he and Beldum trudged up the stairs, sweating and exhausted. Steven ran his hand across his bald head, feeling the sweat smear across the skin. Beldum gave him a small bonk on the skull, as a form of affirmation, so Steven thought.   
The two walked down the hall to a room and opened it. The room was empty. Steven found that he was somewhat disappointed, which surprised him. Beldum lay down on the bed to the far left of the room.   
Steven debated between going downstairs and socializing, and staying with Beldum. He stared at the Pokemon for a while, before coming to a decision. Figuring the psychic Pokemon could handle itself, Steven left it to rest.   
Downstairs, in the common room, there was a commotion. Steven heard something going on before he’d descended down the stairs. Curiously, he poked his head over the banister, but out of general view.   
Two odd-looking people were interrogating people one by one. The shorter one, a man, was going around asking if anybody had seen a certain boy. Steven’s heart nearly stopped when the man whipped out a picture of him from no more than a year ago. He was dressed in formal attire in the photo, and had a full mane of hair. He prayed fervently that nobody would recognize him.   
To his relief, nobody did. But then, the intruding woman flashed her eyes toward him and scrunched her features. Steven ducked his head back, and ran up the stairs. Her footsteps weren’t very far behind and he nearly squeaked in terror.   
Suddenly, Steven found himself cornered in the room with Beldum, her footsteps accelerating with every passing moment. “Beldum,” he whispered, “You’ve got to do something…”  
Beldum blinked and levitated higher. The woman entered the room, and gasped in delight. “There we go. I like this.”  
She couldn’t have possibly seen it coming. Beldum charged at her head with a burst of energy and bashed against her skull. She fell over, fainted. Then Steven felt Beldum doing something quite terrifying. The Pokemon was pulling electrical signals out of her brain.   
It was erasing her memories.   
Worry. No. That was the Beldum’s message to Steven, who still couldn’t help but feel sick at the thought of having memories stolen. In that moment he prayed that Beldum wouldn’t turn on him.  
Beldum scoffed at that. But only telepathically.   
Steven’s head suddenly cleared. “Alright. Alright. Okay. We need to leave. Now. Before that other guy finds her.”  
Beldum concurred wholeheartedly. Steven wondered if the creature had a heart, biologically. He hoped that it did, for some reason. But there was just something, something fantastic, about his newfound friend. Or partner. He wasn’t sure if friend was quite the right word yet. 

-

The Pokemon Center was largely empty in Fallarbor Town. Which suited the hooded Glacia. The town had been sparsely populated for the last few years, especially with Team Pyre’s growing activities. Luckily for the Fallarborians, the terrorists had focused their oppressive efforts on Lavaridge Town. Few grunts ventured north.   
Fallarbor was a miserable town.  
Ash from Mount Chimney cascaded down every few days with muggy heaviness. It drenched everything in gray. The sun faded into the background of the dusty sky on these days, and few plants grew in Fallarbor.   
Rumor was that the constant ash was a result of the breathing and sleeping patterns of the legendary Groudon. A Pokemon that hadn’t been seen in millennia.   
Glacia wasn’t one to believe in rumors, but regardless, the ash was truly miserable.   
Beartic carried Grinjazz’s body in a sack. She hoped none of the nurses would suspect anything. Though what she was doing was entirely legal, it was best not to arouse any unwanted attention. This was a dirty job, and she was a highly respected authority figure.   
A member of the Elite Four couldn’t be seen doing the work of a lowly assassin.   
Glacia was a cold woman. She’d always been, ever since she was a girl. Her mother never liked her much, but her father, Tobin, had always been there.   
That was no more. Both her parents were deceased, from the same flu. It certainly hadn’t cured her icy demeanor.   
This was precisely why she’d always felt drawn to ice types. They seemed to understand her. She remembered when her father had first brought home Snorunt. How cute it’d been. Mother had been furious, she’d always hated Pokemon. Snorunt’s piercing chill blue stare was unsettling to her. But for young Glacia, nothing had ever been more adorable.   
For hours she played with it. And when she set off to become a Pokemon trainer, she brought little Snorunt. How the Pokemon had grown and matured.   
Beartic jostled the dead Grinjazz around in the sack and growled. Glacia found she could no longer refuse it. She sighed. “You can eat him.”  
Beartic prepared to dig in, but Glacia held up a hand. “After. After I’m done here. I promise you, dear friend, it won’t take long.” Beartic growled, but obeyed.  
Glacia dialed the Ever Grande Tower. The computer-phone rang for a few moments before someone answered on the other end. The cameras turned on and Glacia saw a receptionist. “Glacia?! Finally!” The woman seemed relieved.  
“Yes. It’s me. I need you to get Grimsby. Now.”   
The receptionist nodded and moved quickly. Glacia waited patiently for a few minutes. Beartic drooled slush onto her shoulder. She turned her head. “Get back in the ball for just a few minutes.” She extracted a Pokeball from her pocket and returned Beartic.   
Grimsby sat down in the seat. His bespectacled gaze stared kindly at her. He was a close friend of hers, almost a grandfatherly figure. His white beard and bald head sold it. She smiled, and Grimsby responded with the same warm smile. “Glacia! It’s good to see you again. How are you?”  
“Weary. But I’ll be okay.” She paused. “Grinjazz is dead.” She hoisted up the sack as much as possible, its weight bearing her down. Grimsby’s eyes went wide. “Lord almighty… good job. Hmm.”  
“What?”  
“No, it’s just… how much more death need there be?” Grimsby’s voice cracked every so often. He was an old man.   
“I don’t know, Grim. I hope you know I don’t take joy in this. Neither do my Pokemon.”  
“It’s not the natural order of things. That’s the problem. Pokemon kill to eat. They don’t kill for the sake of it.”  
“I’ll find a way to fly to Ever Grande and report back to headquarters. We can talk more, then. For now, let’s just celebrate that another evil man has been put to death.”  
Grimsby sighed, the sound exuding so much wear and tear that Glacia felt a sharp pang of heartache for the man. He was so old, and had seen so much change in his Hoenn. He’d been a member of the Elite Four for over forty years. He’d been Hoenn Champion for much of that time, until Edwinth had come along.  
How she missed Edwinth.   
Glacia’s thoughts were interrupted by Grimsby. “Okay, Glacia. Okay. See you.” A click, and the screen went black. Glacia got up, and dragged the sack, barely making it out the door of the Center. She brought out Beartic, and her partner again helped her carry it about. They climbed over a few massive rocks on the outside of town.   
“You can eat now, friend,” Glacia said, with a sigh. Beartic dug in with glee, and she turned away, looking back at the ash-gray town with melancholia.


	4. The Laws of Nature

_Approximately one year ago._

The once-beautiful Persephonia writhed in agony as Toxicroak grazed its venomous appendages against her nude belly. No longer did the woman have her famously flawless skin, it was far too razed by the horrors of Toxicroak’s stabbers. Maulfin had made sure of it.   
Toxicroak backed away again, chill grin on its face.  
“Now, my dear, we can continue, if you so please. Haven’t we shown you our dedication?” Maulfin asked with an evil grin.   
Persephonia panted in torment. “H-have I...have I not sh-shown… I’m never going to tell you where he is!” The last sentence took considerable effort, he saw. Stupid bitch.   
He nodded to Davie, a broad-shouldered and muscular grunt. The man walked closer to Persephonia, then, thwack. His fist cracked across her face, and she fell to the floor. They had not bothered to keep her tied or locked up. She was helpless without her Pokemon. Especially Tropius. How Maulfin wanted her Tropius. It was considered one of the most powerful Pokemon in the entire region.   
And the whore had hidden it somewhere.   
Persephonia lay on the floor, physically broken. Mentally, however, Maulfin sensed they were nowhere near a breakthrough. They’d been torturing her every week or so for half a year, yet she was tougher than steel.  
“My dear… I assure you. The pain will end as soon as you tell us where Tropius is. Imagine that. Just let us take care of Tropius, and your pain will cease. We will, in fact, let you go free!”  
When Persephonia didn’t move, or respond in any way, Maulfin continued. “Just imagine that, Persie. No more beatings, no more poisons, and no more rapings.”  
Maulfin knew that last item would get her attention. Her practically lifeless eyes drifted up towards him. Though the poison made her motor skills incompetent, the expression she shot at him was so full of hatred that it almost scared him.   
Almost.  
Maulfin chuckled. Then he shrugged. “This is your last chance before I leave, to tell me of Tropius’ whereabouts. I highly suggest you tell me, because Davie here will be a lot less patient as I am. Isn’t that right, Davie?”  
“Yessir.” A quick nod to show his boss his subservience. A hound if there ever was one, Maulfin thought to himself.   
She spoke through gritted teeth. “I’m not telling you shit.”  
Maulfin felt himself overcome with fury, but he immediately suppressed the feeling. It was no good. His wrath would only convince her that she had won the situation. Even if he let Davie rape her later, she’d remember the victory. That she was able to get him riled up.   
Nobody was allowed to get him riled up. He clenched and unclenched his fists behind his back, then knelt down to the dark-stone floor where she lay, and reached out to stroke her hair. Long, flowing, blonde. It was now ragged and matted. She was truly a marvelous woman. Despite everything he’d inflicted on her, she still managed to look delicious. It was a shame she’d never reciprocate his lustful feelings.   
Fortunately for her, Maulfin didn’t have much of an eye for rape. He let the other grunts get nibbles of her, but for him, it was disgusting. He was surprised she hadn’t broken by this point.   
Yet, Maulfin maintained a cool and methodical approach to everything he did. That was how he maintained the loyalty of so many followers. It was all a part of his aura of fear. A potent combination of fear and respect worked wonders. Even Archer had barely been able to mount an insurrection. Oh sure, some had joined Archer’s soapbox cause against him, but ultimately, none could match Maulfin in competence, and brutal efficiency. If he suspected a trace of disloyalty in his subordinates, he’d make sure they disappeared. Without so much a trace. His Pokemon were certainly a hungry bunch.   
Hungry for flesh… but not lacking in hunger for conquest, either.  
Maulfin exited the room, smiling as he heard Persephonia groan in pain. She’d break soon. All his enemies did.

-

For three days, Steven had traveled. Three back-breaking, unforgiving days. He’d climbed hills, walked for what felt like days on end, and sweat oceans out of his pores. Beldum seemed to be fairing decently, whenever they camped, it would go off on its own, and return hours later, exuding satisfaction. Even Steven, with his extremely limited psychic abilities, could feel its emotions radiating off of it. He savored that feeling, knowing that it was quite possibly the only thing he really had above the creature. But the fear was still there, the fear that Beldum could turn on him, rob his memories, or worse, kill him. He didn’t know how it would do that, yet, but he knew it probably could.  
Whenever the Pokemon would go off, Steven had no choice but to wonder. And want to join. But he’d learned the hard way whenever Beldum had gone off, that he was not meant to intrude on these excursions. It was Beldum solo-time. If it saw, or even felt, Steven’s will to accompany it, it would instill upon him a desire, simply, not to. And as soon as this desire was imprinted upon Steven’s mind, he was stopped by his own hesitance. It wasn’t as terrifying as the robbing of memories, but it still spooked him how easily Beldum was able to psychically control others, to a certain degree.   
There was another problem, even more pressing than dealing with the raw psyche of the untrained Beldum. Steven was starving. The food he’d packed was wearing thin, and he had no idea how to hunt or collect his own food. Berry trees were sparse, and some berries closely resembled more toxic variants. Oran berries, for example, are almost identical to Sancha berries, which, even in trace amounts, are lethal to even some of the largest Pokemon. Only poison-types seem to resist their deadly effects, but the berries taste disgusting, regardless.   
Steven knew they’d have to find shelter soon, or he’d starve to death in the woods. It didn’t help that he had to avoid bounty hunters, and thus resorted to hiking off path and through the thick of the woods. He was relatively sure of where he was going, but nonetheless felt a bit lost.  
It was their fourth day hiking. Steven realized he was a slow hiker. It wasn’t really his fault, fair enough, but that was but a small cushion to the urges of self-doubt. Beldum remained ever loyal, seemingly, but nonetheless there was something of a wall between the companions, and Steven couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. Sometimes he felt as if Beldum viewed him as an inferior.   
Could Steven really blame him though?  
Steven was musing to himself, and pondering all of it, when out of the corner of his eye he saw a young girl in the woods, running around with a little Zigzagoon. Though he had no idea where she could possibly be from, she represented one thing to the starving Steven; and that was a hint of civilization.  
He still hadn’t forgotten the bounty hunters.  
“Girl! Excuse me!” He shouted at her.  
She turned to see him and made a face of discomfort.   
“Please! I’m hungry… I’ve been traveling for days. Do you know where I can find some food?”  
She sighed. “Yeah. Follow me.” And then she ran into the woods. Steven groaned, and started running after her. She dipped behind trees and brush, and it was hard to keep up with her, but he managed.  
Eventually, they came to a clearing. Steven’s eyes went wide, because, right before him, there was a settlement. One he’d never learnt about. It was constructed entirely of tents.   
“This is where I live,” the girl said, “I’m Anika.” She held out her hand, and he shook it. A woman approached them, and asked, “Anika, who is this?” She looked at Steven apologetically.   
“I don’t know. He said he was hungry. So I brought him here.” The girl shrugged.  
“Ah. Okay, then. What’s your name, young man?” The woman asked Steven.  
“Steven. Steven Freeman.” This time, he held out his hand. The woman shook it firmly.   
“Well, Steven, welcome to the Tent Village. That’s what we’ve been calling it, at least. Come to my tent. I’ll give you a sandwich or something.”  
Steven nodded and followed her. Anika had disappeared with her Zigzagoon.   
The tents varied in size, but they were all constructed of some type of canvas. It didn’t rain much in Western Hoenn, not with the energy exuded by Mount Chimney in the North. Even when there was no eruption, ash carried for miles. There was always a bit of smoke coming out of the volcano. Steven had read in a book of myths once, that Hoenn’s mythology revolved around a precarious balance. A balance of the elements. The earth, the sea, and the sky, all lived in harmony. It was a system of checks and balances. Steven had scoffed at that. Natural disasters were commonplace. Tsunamis, flooding, earthquakes, even eruptions happened here more commonly than any other region. Hoenn was known for its volatility. It disappointed him to hear from Wallace, who’d heard from Juan, that Hoenn was only catching up to the other regions technologically. Even other island regions, like Alola, were progressing at a much faster rate than Hoenn.   
Steven yawned, and then stretched. The woman, who was presumably Anika’s mother, opened the flap of the tent and entered. Steven followed suit. He sat down on a cushion and sighed with relief. It was so nice to have something soft underneath him. The woman looked at him and grinned. “Get yourself comfortable. Oh, I forgot. Sorry. My name’s Lisa.”  
“My name’s Steven,” he replied, dumbly.  
“I know,” she laughed.  
She reached into a sack and took out a sandwich, handing it to him. He immediately tore into it, discarding his manners almost immediately. A mere two minutes had passed, and the sandwich was already done. There was definitely some Taillow meat in there. He wasn’t sure what vegetable she’d put, though. After finishing the sandwich, he looked at her, and winced. Lisa was staring at him as if he were a lunatic.   
“Sorry… I’m really, really, really hungry.”  
“It’s okay, just what were you thinking traveling for four days without any rations? Are you insane?” Lisa looked genuinely concerned, and even a little angry.  
“It’s a long story. I had rations. I just didn’t expect to be traveling for so long.”  
“Well, when we send you off from here, I’m going to send you with enough food to reach Verdanturf. It’s not that far from here. Only about a day of walking, if you’re not very fast.”  
“Ooh. Okay. That’s actually where I’m headed.”  
Lisa frowned, to Steven’s mild surprise. “What’re you looking for there? You sound like you’ve got some plan.”  
“Well, it’s on the way to Fortree. That’s my final destination.”  
She shook her head. “Fair enough, but Verdanturf is crawling with Pyre grunts. It’s not as bad as Lavaridge… but it’s still awful. Most of us in the village came from Verdanturf, after the local mining business went bankrupt, and Team Pyre started harassing people.”  
Steven gulped. Team Pyre stayed out of Rustboro, mostly, or at least, they were discreet in their presence there, but he knew that in other towns it was different. Lavaridge, Fallarbor, and Crossgate were all under their control, especially Lavaridge.   
“I have to go there anyway,” Steven said.  
Lisa shrugged. “Suit yourself. I ran a local mining business there, and Team Pyre made it impossible to work. They’d beat my workers up. So we packed up and came out here. All just a year ago.  
“Team Pyre isn’t afraid to hurt anyone. They’re not like the Ocean people, who just fuck with the navy. I’d be careful if I were you.”  
Steven was just about to respond, when an old man entered the tent. “So there you are. This Pokemon of yours...it’s been setting off all of my senses.” He smiled warmly. “Who are you, young man?”  
“Steven Freeman. This is Beldum.”   
“Beldum, eh?” The man came closer. “I’m Bern. A psychic, as some would have it.”  
Steven’s eyes widened. “Whoah… does that mean you can communicate with Beldum?”  
Bern nodded, his kind eyes squinted. “Mhm. And he’s telling me so much. What an intelligent Pokemon.”   
Steven felt a stab of jealousy, seeing that some random stranger better understood his Pokemon than him. He quickly tried to suppress the feeling, knowing that either Bern or Beldum would pick up on it. However, he was too late, as Bern looked at him with a chuckle. “Don’t be envious, young man. Beldum has taken quite the liking to you. You can rest assured of that.”  
“Well, that’s a relief.” Suddenly, Steven hoped Beldum would have the sense not to reveal anything too expository about their backstory. Like where it came from. Or worse, where Steven came from.  
“Beldum is trying to convey what moves he knows to you,” Bern said, “And yes, your Beldum is male.”   
Steven realized he’d barely noticed. But somehow he’d already known that. “Thank you, Bern. I’m honestly so lost.”  
The wise old man smiled. “Let me introduce you to Jerry. He’s a lot younger than you, but he’s owned his Pokemon for some time.”  
Bern left the tent, called for Jerry, and the boy yelled back, “Coming!”  
Steven exited the tent soon thereafter, and got a good look at everything, now that his stomach was full. There were several larger tents central to the settlement. Settlement was a generous term, but somehow Tent Village tripped on the tongue. Tents were made of the usual brand of canvas, but the larger ones seemed to be equipped with protection from rain, and whatnot. Even out here in the wilderness, there was something of an upper class.  
His thoughts were interrupted by Jerry’s greeting. “Hey! What’s your name?”  
Steven was beginning to tire of introductions, but luckily for him, Bern replied for him. Not impolitely, just briskly. “He’s Steven. A young, beginning trainer.”  
“Cool! Wanna have a battle?”  
A rush of excitement charged Steven’s veins. A battle? He’d always wanted one. Beldum’s excitement was palpable. Perhaps the Pokemon was liable to Steven’s emotional influence. He almost grinned at the thought of that. “Sure, man. Beldum, are you feeling up to snuff?”  
Beldum chirped and blinked his singular red eye. Steven didn’t know if that was a positive or a negative, but the anticipation he’d felt from Beldum wasn’t ignorable. “Alright. Jerry, right? Let’s battle.”  
Jerry nodded with a childlike determination that Steven had to admire. He was just as excited as he was. It was obvious that it’d been quite a while since Jerry had had the opportunity to battle anyone head-on.   
The two found a clearing, on the outskirts of the Tent Village. Outskirts, Steven duly noted, was a generous term, yet again. But it would do. Jerry drew a pokeball from his pocket and tossed it around, catching it. An amusing attempt to appear confident. Steven, with no pokeballs of his own, resorted to a sharp gesture in the direction of their ‘arena’. Beldum responded, albeit slowly. They were still getting used to each other.  
“Go! Zigzagoon!” Jerry called out. Zigzagoon emerged from the pokeball in a red beam of light, and landed on the ground gracefully. It growled, squinting its eyes at Beldum. The pokeball ricocheted back to Jerry, who caught it with a well-practiced hand.   
Beldum chirped. Steven abruptly realized he had no idea what moves the Pokemon knew. He gulped. I suppose it’s time to improvise.  
Jerry opened the battle up. “Zigzagoon! Tail Whip!” The Zigzagoon burst into a run, waved its tail in Beldum’s face, then scampered back to its master.   
As far as Steven could tell, nothing had happened. And by the look on Jerry’s face, he was right. Jerry stammered. “What the--Tail Whip is supposed to lower a Pokemon’s defense!”  
Steven shrugged. “I’ve only just gotten this Pokemon.”  
“Well, whatever… Zigzagoon, use Tackle!” Zigzagoon burst into another run, dashing in confusing zig-zag patterns. But Beldum didn’t move. Steven got nervous. What could he command Beldum into doing?   
But to his abject shock, Beldum responded for him. Zigzagoon leapt into the air to smash into the levitating Beldum, when the metallic Pokemon took matters into his own hands (not that it had any), and propelled itself into Zigzagoon, smashing into the hapless rodent Pokemon with compact force. Zigzagoon had no idea what hit it, and it plummeted to the ground, bouncing around before finally crumpling to its side. Jerry had his hands over his mouth.   
“Oh no...Zigzagoon. Please! Stand up!”  
But Beldum was far from unharmed. He suddenly grew tense in the air, and chirped in what Steven could only describe as pain. He felt the pain himself, channeled directly from his partner Pokemon. “Beldum! Is everything okay?”  
Beldum responded with a simple, but oddly reassuring; Recoil. Battle.  
To further emphasize its point, it turned around and stared back at Steven with a determined eye. Steven nodded slowly. “Okay. If you’re sure.”  
Zigzagoon slowly got back to its feet. Beaten, but still capable of battle. “Zigzagoon, use Sand-Attack!”  
Zigzagoon kicked up some dirt with its hind legs, aimed directly at Beldum’s eye. Beldum tried whirring out of the way, but failed, and was bombarded with dirt. He chirped in discomfort, and Steven grit his teeth. His first battle was far from over. “Beldum. Attack?”  
Beldum launched into an assault, though he was partially blinded by Zigzagoon’s Sand-Attack. However, he failed, and torpedoed into the ground a few feet away from Zigzagoon. Jerry threw a fist into the air. “Yes!”  
Beldum floated back up, clearly a little disoriented. Steven felt a sharp stab of pain, now recognizing it as recoil damage. Surely Beldum could learn more than just that one, painful move?  
No. Beldum said. Very curtly, even by his standards. Steven almost chuckled. “Okay. Let’s try that again, Beldum.”  
“Oh no you don’t!” Jerry said. “Zigzagoon! Tackle again!” Zigzagoon dashed in zig-zag patterns again, and launched itself into Beldum’s face, knocking him to the ground. Beldum chirped, but quickly took advantage of the Zigzagoon’s proximity. He quickly lifted himself out of the dirt and shot into Zigzagoon’s head. Zigzagoon squeaked loudly.  
Steven felt the stab of pain from the recoil damage. Beldum slowly levitated back up, revealing a knocked-out Zigzagoon. Jerry groaned. “Well, shoot. You did good, Zigzagoon. And, uh, good battle. Steven?”  
“Yeah. Good battle indeed, Jerry.” Though Jerry was clearly disappointed with having lost the battle, he smiled slightly and carried his fainted Zigzagoon back to what Steven presumed was his tent. When Steven looked to his right, he saw a levitating Beldum, beaten but victorious. Beldum radiated pride, and Steven grinned like a maniac. “Beldum, you were incredible out there. Seriously.” He stroked Beldum’s head, for the first time, not expecting a reaction. But to his surprise, Beldum emanated satisfaction and drifted closer to Steven.  
“Let’s go get you healed up. I’m sure somebody here has a potion or something.”

-

Two Team Ocean grunts had sailed their boat to the coastal strip of a crater. A massive one, at that, for it had been the very collision site whereupon Sootopolis City was founded upon. Their boss, Archer, had sent them there with the express purpose of pissing the everloving shit out of Juan, the gym leader and local guardian. Though he put out a tough vibe, Archer always told them he’d never actually do anything besides just battling them and forcing them to buzz off. So far, that had held true. Juan held a strict moral compass, and unlike the Admiral, wasn’t bent on their total destruction. One of the grunts, Carter, believed it was because he didn’t take them particularly seriously. But if that meant they could be more carefree with their nautical exploits, then so be it. His buddy, a hardass named Lucia, was more tense.   
She always was, but it didn’t bother him. They’d been friends since they’d both initiated in Team Ocean. Archer was a good boss, he paid them well, he provided them with adventure and shelter, and generally, it was a decent job. Lucia took the job seriously, using these field missions as opportunities to hone her skills as a Pokemon battler. Carter honestly just enjoyed pissing people off. Not to mention, it was tons of fun mucking about with Seaking.   
To date, she was the only Pokemon he had ever owned. But Carter loved her with all his heart. She was the apple of his eye. Only she could drill a hole in his bowels and be adorable simultaneously.   
“Hey. Carter. Focus. I can tell you’re drifting off again,” Lucia said.  
“Alright. Sorry, man. How do we get into this place again?” Carter scratched at his arm.  
“Uh, we’re not going in. It’s hard as hell getting into Sootopolis unless you’ve got air access,” Lucia said, “Which we don’t.”  
“Right. What’s the plan?”  
Lucia groaned. “So the plan is… we make a commotion out here, doing something, with our Pokemon’s help, and then ideally, Juan comes to investigate.”  
Carter nodded, loving the plan. “Sounds good! What next?”  
“And then we… engage him in battle. Archer didn’t really give us explicit instructions.”  
Carter nodded again. It was so much like Archie, to give unclear directions. How he adored the marvelous man.   
Lucia sent out her Pokemon of choice, a Carvanha. It shot out in a beam of light and landed in the beachy tide. Carter shivered. That little piece of shit had a mean streak, bullying Seaking and biting Carter more than a few times. Carter tentatively threw his pokeball out, landing the beauteous Seaking into the sea nearby Carvanha. He looked at Lucia sharply. “You better keep Carvanha away from Seaking.”  
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry your head over it, man. I assure you, I have control over my Pokemon.”  
Carter did not feel reassured.   
Nonetheless, the elaborate plan had to proceed. Lucia spent a few minutes explaining how they were going to create a synthetic twister of sorts.   
He called out to Seaking, “Seaking! Rain Dance!” Seaking made a guttural cry out to the skies above, and suddenly, clouds began to gather. Not massive ones, but large enough to create substantial amounts of rain. Lucia stepped in.  
“Now, Carvanha, use Aqua Jet and shoot yourself up to the sky. Gather the rain!”   
Carter occasionally felt stabs of envy for how well Lucia had trained Carvanha. It followed her command perfectly, firing itself up with a burst of water, absorbing the rain created by Seaking. His beauty. The envy subsided slightly.  
“Now Carvanha, gather the waves and use Surf!” Carvanha snarled in fierce passion and used its energy to call to it the waves of the sea. Combining the stormy weather created from the clouds, the pelting of rain, and Carvanha’s water energy, a massive wave began forming, and swirling. Carter’s jaw dropped. Carvanha was riding on a gigantic wave, which moved dynamically, and rhythmically, in a sense.   
The wave towered higher and higher, until Carvanha was a small spot on the top of it. “Seaking! Use Waterfall!” The idea abruptly came to him, to feed the stream with more water energy. Lucia smiled at him. He always felt giddy when Lucia took pride in him.   
Seaking rose on a waterfall, and succumbed to the towering wave, adding its own energy to it. Carter had instantly identified with Archie’s love for the sea. It was a magnificent and truly awesome place. Even a man as simple as Carter could see it.   
Then Lucia shouted, “We’ve got company!” And Carter was torn from his thoughts. He looked to where she pointed, and saw Juan emerge from underwater, riding a Kingdra with a younger boy behind him. That would be Wallace, the apprentice. It was genuinely majestic, and despite how nervous Carter was about battling Juan, he couldn’t help but appreciate it.  
“You scoundrels!” Juan called out. “Disturbing the peace of Sootopolis with your stupidity.”   
“Yeah! What’re you gonna do about it?!” Carter called out excitedly. This was so fun.  
Lucia smirked. “Yeah, Juan. You gonna battle us?”  
Juan shook his head, groaning slightly. He landed on the beach, and helped Wallace get off Kingdra and onto dry land. Both were soaking wet. Kingdra sailed alongside them in the ocean. “You’re fools. It’s an annoyance to remove you from my town, a distraction. You bloat your importance.”  
Carter had no idea what any of that meant, but it sounded like they were succeeding in pissing Juan off.   
Lucia cackled melodramatically. “Team Ocean shall rule the seas! Watch, you stupid bloke!”  
Juan’s face went a deep shade of scarlet. “You… bah! KINGDRA! Use Twister on the water spout!”  
Kingdra leapt into the air from the churning sea, and stirred up wind from the force out of its mouth. Winds gathered together, blowing violently. As the Twister grew, the closer it got to the towering water spout Carter and Lucia had created. It began pushing its way into the whirlpool, a fierce noise, not so different from a metal drill, sounded throughout the beach.   
“Put some more force into it, Kingdra!” The Pokemon obeyed its owner’s command, and blew even harder, provoking stronger gales of wind, and the Twister tore through the equanimity of the water spout’s current. Suddenly, the entire thing seemed to fall apart at the seams, the water dissipating and falling back to the ocean, Seaking and Carvanha with it. Even Wallace, Juan’s apprentice, seemed astounded by the demonstration of power.  
Lucia gasped. “Shit! Carvanha! Use Crunch!” Her Pokemon quickly recuperated from its fall from grace. The fast little bugger closed in on Kingdra. But Juan kept the steely-eyed look on his face. “Kingdra, Double Team!”  
Carter groaned. Juan was notorious for his use of Double Team. Kingdra seemingly duplicated itself, about ten times over. Carvanha charged through one of the duplicates, only to pass through it. Confused, it started chomping at everything in vicinity, beginning to work itself into a rage. Lucia grit her teeth. “Carvanha, come back to me.”  
Juan smirked. “Yes. Leave Sootopolis at once.” His apprentice nodded, vigorously.  
“Yeah, whatever, man,” Lucia said. She withdrew Carvanha in a beam of red light back into its pokeball. “Come on, Carter. Let’s go.”  
Carter looked back at Juan and Wallace, shrugged, then turned to accompany Lucia back to the boat.

-

When they got back to the gym, and dried off, Wallace was hungry again. Physically and metaphorically. “Listen, Juan, I think we need to talk about my training situation. I think I’m ready to use a Pokemon.”  
Juan laughed. “Is Feebas not enough?”  
Wallace rolled his eyes. “Feebas… I mean, alright. I like Feebas. But, come on!”  
Juan looked genuinely confused. “What?”   
“It’s unusable!”  
His teacher shrugged him off. “It’s entirely your fault you haven’t been able to evolve it yet. I gave you Feebas for a reason. I thought you, one who appreciated beauty, could draw out its full potential.”  
Wallace’s muscle twitched. It had been one year since he’d been gifted Feebas, and still he’d found something of a disconnect between himself and the Pokemon. Not one to complain, he’d given the Pokemon a shot. So far, however, it had failed miserably in all of his expectations. He couldn’t believe that something so ugly and stupid could evolve into something so majestic. Bitter irony. One of the lords’ tricks, or something.  
Needless to say, he little expected another word from his teacher on the subject. But to his surprise, Juan had more to say. “I do agree that you should have another Pokemon. It is your responsibility as a trainer to catch and raise Pokemon, and grow with them. I haven’t seen fit to allow it yet, because I didn’t feel you were ready. I have my own reasons. For one, I didn’t think you were quite ready to join the CPP in the fight for peace. But,” Juan conceded, “I do believe it is your right. You are old enough, after all.”  
Wallace most certainly was. Ever Grande League law decreed that youngsters could only formally become trainers at age fifteen. He’d turned fifteen about half a year ago. His mother had given him a pokeball that had supposedly belonged to his father, whom he had never met. It was rare in Hoenn culture for a father to leave the roost. Wallace was just glad Juan had taken him under his wing. Or as Juan would poetically gesticulate, in his water-type afficianado way, ‘his fin’.  
“Yes,” Juan continued. “We’ll go catch you something tomorrow. But, Wallace, you must promise me this.” Wallace looked up, directly into his teacher’s eyes, which matched his grave voice.  
“Yes, Juan?”  
“Behave responsibly when meddling with the laws of nature. Please.”  
Wallace nodded.


	5. According to Plan

_One year earlier._

“In fact, sir, I think that if we were to awaken Groudon at ALL… we would no longer require its power for ourselves,” the Executive Scientist, Maxie, said.   
“Hmm. Do elaborate. I’d still like to keep Groudon in our hands,” Maulfin replied steadily. Maxie saw through Maulfin’s closed face. The man was unbelievably curious. No surprise there.   
“I’ve taken some time reading into the myths of Rayquaza. Of course, this was a must, as you very well know, Rayquaza may be our opponent when we awaken Groudon. In my research, I came across some ancient Draconid texts referring to an alien creature. It’s home is an asteroid, one that circles back to Earth every few millennia.”  
“Interesting,” Maulfin said.  
“The Pokemon is called Deoxys by the Draconid lorekeepers. Very powerful, or at least, powerful enough to pose a threat even to the mighty Rayquaza.”   
“Undoubtedly useful information. Get to the point, Maxie.”  
Maxie held back a sigh. “With the power we’d obtain from rousing Groudon, we would draw Deoxys back to the region. This is what the myths have implied. Or so I’ve gathered.”  
This drew a smirk out of Maulfin. “How quaint.”  
Quaint wasn’t the word Maxie had in mind. But there was no use resuming this conversation. Maulfin clearly had other things on his mind. Stupid, short-sighted Maulfin couldn’t see anything for the potential it truly held. All he thought about was unleashing the power of Groudon. No plan beyond that. Maxie, on the other hand, was much more ambitious. He sought to uncover the secrets of Hoenn, the secrets that had been guarded so long by a select few.   
After all, there was a region Hoenn never became the utopic holy land that regions like Kanto, Kalos, and Galar seemed to have become. Peace and technology prospered in those regions, and there was no surprise as to why. They had complete control over themselves.   
Very much unlike Hoenn, controlled by the whims of weather and unguarded natural power. The power that shifted and determined everything. This was a region built on top of raw destructive energy. The city of Sootopolis was constructed in the crater left by the Second Coming of the Meteor. The city of Ever Grande was built on an island, an island which only existed due to a gigantic earthquake that had happened millions of years ago. Maxie thought it very likely that these shifts of landmass and geography could all be chalked up to the battles of Groudon and Kyogre. And perhaps the workings of Regice, Registeel, and Regirock, though nobody truly believed in the veracity of those myths.   
Maxie left Maulfin’s office. The heat permeated by the volcano around them seeped through the walls, despite the cooling systems Maxie had had installed.   
He sparsely recalled a very distant childhood and winced at the lost opportunities.

-

Having spent two days under the care of Bern and Lisa. He’d grown to like Jerry and Anika, two Tent Village children, quite a bit. Jerry refused to battle him again, having vowed to get stronger first. He’d marveled at the tenacity of Beldum. “I don’t get it. It was your first battle.”  
Steven shrugged. “I guess Beldum and I are bonded more than we think.”  
Bern had scoffed at that. “Barely. That Beldum is just a lot stronger than you think.”  
“Perhaps.”  
Lisa had advised him to create a Trainer ID in Verdanturf. It was the only way for a trainer to connect themselves to the network, and the only way for a trainer to purchase personalized pokeballs; balls that would record data on the Pokemon contained and reinforce moves. Additionally, it allowed a trainer free use of the Pokemon Centers.  
It seemed to be something of a ‘must-do’ to Steven, and he made a private note to immediately seek out the centers. For now, he’d stay in the Tent Village and learn more about Beldum from Bern.   
And it certainly helped that Lisa made some of the best Caterpie roast he’d ever tasted. “The reason we usually cook Caterpie is simple,” she’d explained to him once. “It’s because they’ve got meat to them. And of course, they’re a lot easier to catch than Tailow.”  
“What about Wurmple?” Steven asked. “They seem a lot juicier than Caterpie.”  
Lisa shook her head. “Oh, no. No, no, no. Wurmple are full of poison. At least, the male Wurmple are.”  
“Just catch females then!”  
Lisa laughed. “It’s impossible to tell a male from a female. They reproduce differently from most Pokemon.”  
Steven had learned a lot, just from talking to Lisa and Bern, the latter of whom seemed to befriend Beldum more and more each passing day. Beldum was enjoying the doting attentions of Bern, chirping enthusiastically when Bern pat it on the head. It was odd. Joseph had once told Steven that steel and rock types were among the stupidest of Pokemon, and operated on pure instinct. That was his response to Steven when he’d questioned how ethical the company’s mining facilities were.   
Beldum defied every excuse Joseph had ever given to justify the destruction of rock, ground and steel type habitats. Although, Steven thought, it was always possible Joseph could be right about Hoenn Pokemon. Steven wasn’t sure where exactly Beldum had come from. It was extraregional, that was for sure. Nobody seemed to be able to recognize it. There was an odd sense of vain pride in possessing a Pokemon either rare or unheard of in the region. Steven felt unique to possess such a wonderful creature.  
For about two hours every day, Steven trained Beldum. He’d have it practice its charging smash, that he had no name for, against trees and stones and such. This created a sort of trust between trainer and Pokemon, though Beldum still kept its evening activities private, as always. Steven still felt stung by that. He wasn’t sure why the Pokemon felt the need to hide its activities from him, as if he were a small, naive child. Surely, there was nothing nefarious Beldum was trying to shield from his prying eyes?  
So that night, Steven resolved to break past the psychic block Beldum usually placed upon his mind and follow the creature into the woods.   
Per usual, evening was closing in, and Steven and Beldum were in Bern’s tent, relaxing with tea. Bern laughed. “Steven, Steven. My dear boy. You must understand something. Beldum, psychically, still possesses far greater strength than you.”  
“Yeah, I don’t have ANY psychic strength. That’s the problem!” Steven said indignantly.  
“Incorrect.” Bern was jovial, but firm. “Every human and every Pokemon possesses a potential for psychic ability. Of course, the quantity will vary from person to person, and Pokemon to Pokemon, but every single one has at least a sliver of potential.”  
“Hmm,” Steven said, thoughtfully. “Well, then, why can’t all Pokemon use their psychic powers?”  
“Beldum is a psychic-type Steven. This means it has far greater potential for psychic power than most Pokemon. You see, the laws of nature dictate that all Pokemon have their place in the ecosystem. This is basic biology, correct?”  
“Sure,” Steven said, ready for another fun lecture from Bern.   
“Thus, psychic types evolved to have greater potential in psychic energy than other types. It’s quite simple, Steven. But yes, to answer your question before; ALL Pokemon, in theory, can utilize their natural psychic abilities. However, you’d have to breed them for that specific purpose. And most don’t have the raw psychic strength necessary.”  
Steven nodded. Turns out he’d learn two things about Beldum tonight. At that moment, Beldum chirped, and floated his way out of the tent. Bern smiled. Steven smiled, but grit his teeth with determination. “Alright, Bern. Thank you for the science lesson. I’m going to go to sleep now, I think.” He yawned unintentionally.   
“Of course. Anytime. Good night, young Steven.” Bern turned away, and Steven left the tent.   
The crisp night air smelled good. Steven heard a chirping and saw Beldum whirring his way towards the trees. He slowly crept after the Pokemon, daring not to make a sound. He thought strenuously about shutting his mind off from the rest of the world; perhaps Beldum would detect him that way.   
Beldum entered the forest, and Steven tiptoed after him, slowly treading through the short grass. Slight lumination from lamps in the Tent Village made his path only slightly more clear. At least, clear enough for him to avoid the accidental snap of a stick.   
The light didn’t last, though. Soon enough, Beldum and his mysterious pursuer were deep into the woods. Steven felt a chill run down his spine. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea. He immediately suppressed this, convincing himself that it was merely Beldum’s psychic commands attempting to obstruct his determination. He shook his head to clear his mind, but found that even though the uneasy feeling had subsided, there was still something eerie about the woods.   
Then Beldum stopped. Steven feared for the briefest of moments that he had detected him somehow. But almost as soon as he stopped, he suddenly accelerated again, and towards an unseen target on the ground. Steven’s eyes widened. What in tarnation was happening?  
He dared to creep closer, to see what was happening. He heard a cracking noise, as if a rock was being cracked open. Hiding behind some shrubbery, Steven peeked through the bramble.   
What he saw horrified him.   
A Geodude, paralyzed in a terrified facial expression, stared at Beldum, who descended slowly. Steven could feel the psychic power emanating from him, working to crush Geodude’s mind with his sheer force of will. And it was working. Slowly, Steven felt Geodude’s essence slip and falter, until it was no more.  
It only truly existed in the physical plane.   
That didn’t change its awful facial expression, however, which portrayed such raw fear that Steven felt remorseful even for looking at it. Beldum swerved round, and used its glinting claws to grab at the Geodude.  
Then it began consuming its stony body, bit by bit. Steven whimpered. And that was his slip-up. Beldum paused from his meal to stare at him, straight through the bush he hid behind. It sent aggressive, violent thoughts at him. How dare you. Leave now.  
“I--I…” Steven stammered.  
NOW! This thought was so powerful, Steven felt a shrill ring through every corner of his body, as if he were being vibrated within a metal container. It hurt. So he ran, with no thought in his head besides the need to get to the safety of the tents  
Meanwhile, Beldum continued slowly consuming the dead Geodude, piece by piece. Much to Steven’s horror, despite the distance between him and the Pokemon, he felt every single bite. And to his greater horror… he found that he rather enjoyed the feeling of the feeding.

-

What a motley crew they were. Matty still wondered how he’d gotten caught up in this whole mess. For days on end they’d been camping along Route 116. Scott and Rhonda had wanted to explore deeper into the woods, but Matty had convinced them that soft young Steven wouldn’t have gone off-route. This was an impromptu excuse to disguise his abject fear at the thought of entering the wilderness of the wild. On the route, there was a path. And Matty liked the path.  
Scott had chuckled condescendingly. Rhonda had rolled her eyes. Matty didn’t care. There was no way he’d go into there. Looking back on the conversation (if you could even call it that), he was sure that they’d known exactly where his hastily thought-of line of reasoning stemmed from. But even they couldn’t deny the logic of it. The rich boy certainly couldn’t be bold enough to enter the woods alone. There was no way.   
Rhonda at least, seemed oddly sure of that. While she continued behaving supercilious towards Matty whenever she had the chance, her defense of Matty’s logic at times seemed perfunctory. It was weird as anything Matty had ever seen. It almost seemed as if she was being puppeteered by something.  
Due to the nature of the woods, and the looming hills of Rusturf, there wasn’t much her Swellow could do. She let it out to scout about every day, but it never returned with anything. And Grumpig was utterly useless. Matty was starting to feel as if this goose chase would never end.   
Scott and Rhonda, the two jerks they were, had forced Matty to wait outside while they scoured the inn for any sign of stupid Steven. Scott looked fine on his way out, just disgruntled at not having garnered any new lead. Rhonda on the other hand, looked dizzy, an odd look for a woman who seemed so in-command.  
Now, they were camping. Matty hated it with a passion. He and Scott shared a large tent while Rhonda slept in her own. Scott snored. Because of course he did. Of course, it was only Matty who could end up with the worst tent-partner on the planet. Truly, the gods were making a mockery out of him.   
The ground was uncomfortable beneath him. His sleeping bag was barely protection against the chill breeze of the Hoenn nightfalll.   
His thoughts were interrupted by Scott’s obnoxious voice. “I don’t get it.”  
Matty hazarded a response. “What?”  
“Sorry. I’m just thinking out loud. What in the name of the gods was Stone thinking, sending you on this mission?”  
How often Matty asked that very question. Somehow it sounded more venomous out of Scott’s mouth. “I don’t know. I’m trying to sleep.”  
“Well, alright then.”   
And that was that.

-

The sea winds of Slateport vaguely roused something out of Joseph Stone. A helicopter ride never failed to excite him, which was precisely why he enjoyed travel so much. And his pilot, a woman named Vanessa, always seemed to find a way to make him smile. Of course, all the wonderful energy was gone on this business trip. Joseph still fumed over his missing son, and Professor Juniper’s obtuseness. And to top it all off, there had been no word from the bounty hunters or Matty. Not since they’d left.  
It was enough to push Joseph off the edge. It should’ve been, at least, but Joseph wasn’t the type to convey his flappable moments to anyone. Business, as his father had always exclaimed, was business. Today was an important sale, too. The Admiral had wanted to sit down and talk deals.   
The Admiral was a notoriously hard man. But his title never intimidated Joseph. If Drake was a rock, Joseph was steel. His gaze mirrored that. Or so Vera told him whenever she’d felt lively enough for lovemaking. It had been years since then. For a moment, Joseph softened. Quickly, he killed off the emotion in his brain. No. Not today.   
A few aides surrounded him, en route to the Shipyard. There, the Admiral was waiting. Joseph was tempted to go to the market for a bit, just to make the Admiral wait longer, but decided against it. Even from where he was, the smell of spices and berry stews made his mouth water. Perhaps he’d go later, to buy something small and sweet for Vera.   
The streets of Slateport were wide and made of comfortable stone, for the large city’s population to walk through with ease, and for the carts and caravans of merchants and performers. It was a bustling city, but in a different sort of way to Rustboro. For one, Slateport was much more humid. And so, frequently you’d see shirtless merchants dragging their merchandise, whether it be dolls, toys, collectibles, food, anything really. A saying in Hoenn went around that if you could think it, it was purchasable somewhere in Slateport.   
Joseph and his entourage kept their face stone-cold. Slateport was full of thieves, a hive of criminal activity. Precisely why Joseph surrounded himself with intimidating men. Each were decently skilled trainers as well. Certainly not as tough as the Admiral Drake, but hardy in their own rights. Joseph particularly favored one of them, a man named Miles. The man didn’t speak much, a trait Joseph liked in a subservient. He listened and did as he was told. Almost rarely did he ask questions.   
The group entered the Shipyard confidently. Joseph scanned the area for Drake. He was standing over in the distance, talking to some sailor. It looked like he was chastising him for something. Joseph decided to take initiative here.   
“Admiral!” He called out, loudly.   
Drake turned from the meek sailor and squinted in Joseph’s general direction. He didn’t smile. “Ah. Joseph. I’m glad you came. We need to talk.” He strode towards Joseph, with the bravado of a commander. Joseph strode towards him, away from his aides. He looked back at them quickly with a stare that ordered them not to follow them. He shook Drake’s hand.  
“Of course, of course, dear friend. Tell me what it is you need and I’ll see what I can do.”  
“Very well, then. I will be blunt. Our current ships are too weak to challenge Team Ocean’s speedy craft. Truly amazing, since just half a year ago, the Hoenn Naval Force barely let any Team Ocean vessels get away. The cannons you sold us proved indispensable.” Drake paused. Joseph smiled.   
“But,” Drake continued, “The cannons no longer penetrate their hulls. It’s as if they’ve managed to obtain some new armor for their ships. And even worse, some of their ships are equipped with drills, that puncture through ours, and leave us totally vulnerable to their capture.”  
Joseph forced a frown. He already knew of all this, and inside he delighted. Everything was going according to plan. Team Ocean would be winning….and then they wouldn’t be. And then the pattern would continue for as long as he could milk it for. So much money to be made. Of course, he refused to let any of that show on his face, lest Drake realize what he was up to. “I’m sorry to hear that, Admiral. What do you wish for me to do? You know very well Devon fully supports the Elite Four in their quest to eliminate the terrorism perpetuated by scum like Team Ocean and Pyre.”   
A practiced verse.   
Drake responded tersely, “Joseph. I wish for better armor for my ships. I wish for better weaponry. Better explosives, better guns. How soon can you provide it? And for how much? That is all that truly matters to me.” Joseph detected the slight edge of urgency and desperation in his voice. Perfect.  
He kept his face neutral. “I can work something out within two weeks. I would give you all of our tech for free, but of course… you know the drill. Remember what my father always said?”  
Drake said numbly, “Business is business. Yes. I understand.” Joseph could tell he didn’t, but that was besides the point.  
“Give me two weeks, to fit your ships with new armor. I will require a down payment of four-million. No less.”  
Drake’s eyes widened, but he said nothing. Joseph shot a quick glance at the Admiral’s hands to see one twitch. Finally, Drake opened his mouth. “Very well. You drive a hard bargain, but I know there is no negotiating when it comes to you, Joseph.”  
Especially when you have nothing I want. Joseph thought sardonically. “Perfect.” He reached into his briefcase and extracted a shipping contract. “Sign here.” He gave Drake a pen with a smiley-face sketched on it. Drake quickly signed the document and handed it back to Joseph, a dour look on his face the entire time.  
“It better be two weeks, Joseph. I mean it. These are times of urgency.” He extended his hand to shake Joseph’s, firmly. And with that, he walked back to the sailor who he’d been haranguing before.   
Joseph smiled to himself jovially, and strolled back towards his entourage. Everything was going exactly according to plan. 


	6. The Mines

_Ten years earlier._

The Rusturf Mine was a dark place, illuminated only by the workers’ lanterns. Joseph strenuously avoided coming to the wretched place, which smelled like death and burning sulfur. Noises ranged from rookie pickaxes chipping away at rock; stone and ore, to the drills further down the mine. And in this checkup, he’d resentfully been badgered by his wife, Vera, into dragging the boy, little Stevie, along.   
Very well, then. He’d sullenly responded to his wife, who smiled sweetly and coughed. The cough worried Joseph terribly. Vera was a sickly girl even when they’d been younger, but her coughing fits had increased in intensity quite drastically ever since she’d borne Steven.   
He flashed his gaze backwards to check if the boy was even still there. The frail little fellow was breathing from his mouth. Joseph shook his head and smiled. “Don’t worry, Stevie, papa will get you a mask.”  
The boy just nodded, never having been the talkative one. At least, never to Joseph. It seemed to him that Steven couldn’t leave his mother’s side, even for a moment. She’d had to force him to go with his father to where product was obtained. Joseph sighed, letting go of his belligerence, somewhat. The truth was, this visit with the child was inevitable. This experience was invaluable for the young heir.   
Foreman Tonio approached Joseph with his hands behind his back. He wore a pair of thick glasses. “Greetings, sir!” He said overexcitedly, his voice somewhat muffled by his breathing mask. Then the foreman turned to Joseph’s son and made a similar greeting. Joseph grunted. “Foreman. I’d like you to give us masks. I’m inspecting some of the lower mines, with the boy, of course.”  
Tonio nodded. “Yes, sir. Follow me.” The man led Joseph to the familiar equipment station. Several miners, covered in filth, conversed while drinking water from small paper cups. These workers did not wear masks, since they worked in the uppermost part of chte cavern, and masks were a huge expense. They eyed Joseph with something of wariness. He scowled. They’d better be wary of him.  
Foreman Tonio entered the station and after a few moments emerged with a pair of masks hanging off of his fingers, as well as a pair of earmuffs to protect from the loud reverberation of the lower mining drills. Joseph helped his son equip one, and watched as the boy’s face eased. He heard him exhale and inhale rather rapidly. “Slow down,” Joseph said.  
Steven’s breathing relaxed slightly, but he still looked somewhat nervous. Joseph equipped his mask, and made a thumbs-up to the foreman. The foreman took them to an impromptu lift, up some stairs. He whistled, and another man came over. “Derd, take the boss down to some of the ore mines.”  
Derd nodded, and walked over to a central panel on the lift, which was a flat area surrounded by what looked like a bottomless chasm. He pressed a couple of buttons, and the lift coughed into life, shaking a little before slowly descending into the depths.   
Looking at his son, Joseph expected to see a panicky little lad. To his surprise, the boy looked intrigued by the machinery, and the earth around them. Joseph couldn’t help but smile slightly. The boy was usually so fearful of everything.   
The lift, after several moments, came to a stop. Joseph looked up, and saw a small spot of light, which even in of itself was dim. They were deep in the mines. Everything was dark and coarse. Joseph thanked his late father for forcing him to spend time deep in the caves, and forcing him to become acquainted with their precarious intrigue.   
Some found adrenaline in uncovering treasure from the bottom of the seas; Joseph was raised to chase ore, to chase rare minerals with ferocity.  
“We’ve had a lot of luck here. Sir,” Derd said, and Joseph stepped off the lift to enter a tunnel. Some gravelly earth scrunched underneath his feet. He heard Steven’s small feet follow him, as he walked into the tunnel. Though he worried for Steven’s safety, he knew there wasn’t much that could hurt him. There’d been no Aggron sightings in years. And everyone knew Golem clans tended to prefer the surface. No. The only thing that made Joseph wary was the risk of tunnel collapse. The workers were equipped with water types such as Goldeen, to help them stay hydrated in times of emergency, and to churn the rocks out of the way in the event of a minor collapse.  
Still. It was an oppressive environment. Humans were surface creatures by design. Joseph knew he defied the laws of nature with every chip he took out of the earth, with every cavernous stretch he conquered. And to his delight, from what he could tell, Steven was just as bewildered and fascinated by this alien world as he was.   
“Dad. What is this place?” He asked in his curious voice. Joseph’s heart couldn’t help but warm slightly. His son rarely addressed him directly.  
“We’re in the Rusturf Mines, boy. This is where the company acquires its resources,” Joseph explained with a teacher’s tone. The boy nodded. They finally encountered a miner, who toiled away at stone with a drill, wearing ear protection. Joseph approached the worker from behind and tapped his shoulder. The miner powered the drill off and turned around to face Joseph, whom he dwarfed in height. “Excuse me, sir? How can I help?”  
“Show my son some iron ore. He’s a curious child, as you might imagine.”  
The miner bent over to pick up some iron ore. “I haven’t been too lucky, sir. But this is what I have.” His dusty gloves held two small bits of silvery-brown iron ore. Joseph was surprised by his son yet again, when Steven, always the shy type, reached for the ore. The miner chuckled softly and handed it over to the boy.   
“Pretty neat, huh?” The worker said. Steven nodded.  
It was very neat, indeed. 

-

Beldum never spent time with him anymore, much to Steven’s chagrin. It seemed Steven’s intrusion on his hunting activities had shut off, or diminished, any bond the two might have shared.   
Steven almost regretted following his pokemon into the woods, but he knew that, deep down, he wouldn’t have acted differently. Despite how terrifying it was, it was good to know that Beldum was carnivorous. If only Beldum had told him, though… it was pointless to think about. They needed to move on, whether Beldum liked it or not. Three days had passed. The knowledge that he was being hunted only further stressed him. Eventually, they’d comb the woods enough to find the Tent Village.   
Lisa told him to head eastward, until he came to Rusturf Pass. From there, it was a fairly simple hike down south to Verdanturf. He still wasn’t quite the hiker, but that would have to be changed on the go.   
Now, it was time to apologize to Beldum. Steven entered Bern’s tent. Surprise, surprise, Beldum was there, sitting on the floor. Bern wasn’t there; presumably out foraging for berries or something. Steven took a deep breath. “Listen, Beldum. I think we ought to sort our differences. I’m still not entirely certain if you can understand me or not, but I’m heading off soon. And I still want you to come with me.”  
Beldum made no discernable response. Steven felt nothing, and spoke again. “I’m sorry for intruding on your hunting hours. I was simply curious.”  
Slowly, Beldum levitated. No excuses. Steven vividly felt his message to him. “I’m sorry. Yes. There really are no excuses.”  
No excuses. Again. Now, Steven was angry. “I know! You shouldn’t have hidden things from me! This is important!”  
Beldum levitated closer to him. I decide what I share. Then he slowly tapped Steven on the head with his forehead, and Steven collapsed to the floor.   
Then he awoke again. But in some other realm. It was dark, with colors flashing every so often. It wasn’t scary, and actually felt oddly familiar. However, with Steven was another presence. Beldum’s.  
Now I can speak to you properly. When you are conscious, there is too much to filter through.  
What?   
Steven. I like you.  
Wha--  
Steven. I will reveal myself to you with time. Do not be impatient.  
Uh-huh.  
I will awaken you now.  
Yeah.  
Color burst into his eyes as Steven reawoke from the state of zen. Immediately, he felt himself long to return to that peaceful state of ignorance, the strange place where nothing existed but him. And Beldum. The pokemon chirped next to him. Steven slowly got up, and felt his head spin. “Whoah.”  
As he oriented himself, he adjusted to his physical surroundings again. “Beldum,” Steven said. “Do you forgive me?”  
Beldum chirped and levitated up from his sitting position. Steven felt a wave of zen rush over him again. It was brief, and he suddenly wanted for it again. Yet again, Beldum proved to have a superior psychic control over him. It frustrated and reassured Steven.   
And so the two set off, not quite friends again, but still at more peace than before. Bern was out foraging when they left, and Lisa sent him off a sack of berries and a small pouch of dried meat.   
For certain, Steven knew they’d be avoiding Rusturf Tunnel on their travels. It was a hub of activity for his father’s company. If anybody would recognize him it would be there.  
For days they hiked. Every so often, they ran into some small pokemon, that would scurry off at the first sight of them. The journey was peaceful. Hard but peaceful. They eventually cut through Rusturf Pass, a small canyon that oversaw the forest. From there, they had a clear view of Verdanturf Town, as it lay at the foot of the Rusturf range.  
Slowly, trainer and pokemon descended back into the thick forest, they eventually found their way into Verdanturf. The town sprawled over a flattened terrain of thick, dry, green grass. It seemed so peaceful. So welcoming, even at night.  
Strolling through gave them glimpses of wooden cottages. It was a very small town. The biggest establishment he could see was a large, official-looking, Pokemon Center. What surprised Steven most, however, was the symbol of Team Pyre carved into various houses. It was an eerie sight. Small tents were set up outside, faint light coming through the canvas.   
He yawned. Time to find the nearest inn. Or pitch his own tent. Somehow, he preferred the former.   
The inn was easy to find. It was smaller than the one he’d stayed at, however briefly, on Route 116. But it was empty. Verdanturf didn’t receive much foot traffic, aside from the miners. Shit. He’d forgotten about that. Most miners under Devon’s employ slept in local inns, or simply set up camp outside their mines.   
But Steven’s heart stopped cold when he slowly creaked open the door of the inn and stepped inside. Two Team Pyre grunts, recognizable by their uniforms, were occupied at the front desk.   
Despite the heat of the fireplace emanating throughout the room, Steven felt cold as they turned around and grinned wolfishly at him. Beldum chirped and ducked behind him, sliding up against his back under his coat, his cold metal against skin. 


	7. A Trainer

Tense. That was the only way to describe how he felt, walking around Verdanturf. The Pokemon Center should’ve been an oasis from Team Pyre’s intimidating presence, but even there they remained prevalent, occupying themselves in the Pokemon Center’s small corner lounge.   
Steven wasn’t sure where to stow himself away. It was an exceptionally small town. Instead, he opted to hide himself in plain sight. Judging from what he saw that day, it seemed the townspeople had decided to do the same, resuming their daily activities with little attention towards the terrorists infesting their homes.   
Last night, he decided to make a trainer ID under the fake name he’d come up with. Steven Freeman. It felt symbolic in a way, now that he’d broken out of his father’s grip.   
Beldum told Steven that for a short while, at least, he’d be able to hide himself through psychic manipulation. It was strenuous work, but until Steven was able to convince the little creature that he was safe inside a pokeball, they’d have to rely on Beldum’s meager efforts.   
Steven woke up and walked through the small dirt roads of Verdanturf, shivering in the morning’s cool breeze. Beldum had been left in their tent. Steven refused to set his backpack down and carried it with him. He wanted to purchase some pokeballs from the local mart.   
He sat down to eat a sandwich from a local bakery. It was a strange town. A landmark. Someplace that wasn’t Rustboro, and that was saying something. The sandwich tasted good. Life was hard, but it was good, so he had to keep reminding himself. This was what he’d wanted; freedom from the tyranny of his father.   
A pang of worry for Beldum hit him, but he relaxed his neurosis by recalling the carnivorous nature of his Pokemon. Fifty meters away a man was being harassed by some Pyre grunts. Steven barely noticed, too absorbed in his own thoughts.   
But a fist struck the man, who fell to the floor. The grunts were kicking him, the flurry of feet catching Steven’s eye. Shit. What do I do.   
The man was curled up into a fetal position, taking the beating with so little as a whimper. That was when Steven noticed a hooded figure approaching the fight, with a quiet sort of confidence. Steven watched him closely, hoping he’d do something.   
The figure yelled, not bothering to remove his hood. “Fuck you!” He threw out a pokeball. Steven’s curiosity got the better of him and he edged much closer to get a good view of what was about to happen. Still too scared to do anything, he chastised himself. A pokemon formed out of the red light emitted from the pokeball. “Absol!” the figure cried out. It was a kid. Probably around his age, too.   
Absol was both terrifying and majestic. Steven felt his heart nearly stop at the sight of the thing. It was a well-known rumor that an Absol sighting was bad luck. History books taught of the Great Absol Purge of 1899, where hundreds of Hoenn farmers in the West went on a massive murder spree of every Absol they could possibly find. It resulted in the near extinction of the species in Hoenn.  
Steven suspected it was more than just superstition though, now, feeling the dark waves of energy permeate from the houndlike pokemon. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism of sorts. To ward off predators. It was certainly a gorgeous pokemon; its sleek white fur masking smooth black skin. On its face was a bone, protruding from the side and back, adding to the sleekness of the pokemon. A small pokemon, but gorgeous.  
The grunts looked stunned. The boy and his partner, Absol, moved too quickly. “Absol! Bite!” The Absol charged at one of the grunts, its teeth bared. Its prey was too stunned by everything too move out of the way, and Absol plunged its fangs into his shoulder. Blood poured out of the wound, and Absol shredded off a bit of flesh, too, swallowing it.   
The grunt screamed and ran off. Probably to receive medical assistance. By now, the other grunt had assessed the situation. He smiled sickly. “Okay, then. So that’s how we’ll play.”  
“You’d better leave. Before I sic him on you too.”   
The grunt chuckled humorlessly. “Go! Raticate!”  
He threw a pokeball, and out came Raticate; a large, furry creature, with a massive forefang that was honed to the extreme by the veterans. It growled and leapt towards Absol, screeching wildly.   
Absol jumped out of the way, and Raticate landed on its forepaws, sniffing the air. Steven was entranced by the battle.  
“Raticate! Hyper Fang!” Raticate charged at Absol with its glowing white maw open wide.   
The boy reacted quickly. “Absol, quickly, Double Team!” Suddenly, Steven’s eyes were bombarded with the elaborate illusion. Absol seemed to duplicate itself rapidly around the impromptu battlefield, and Raticate’s hyper charge seemed to putter out, as it grew in confusion, and lost its confidence.  
“Now, Absol, Quick Attack!” The illusory copies of Absol faded into the air, but Raticate was still taken by surprise, the slam of Absol’s strike hitting it off balance. It toppled onto the ground, and Absol jumped out of its range.   
“Raticate, Super Fang!” The grunt seemed nervous. He’d underestimated the boy’s skill. Raticate got up and charged again at Absol, its gigantic bucktooth glowing with energy.   
Absol’s body tensed up. “Hold, Absol. Steady.”  
Raticate leapt into the air to utilize gravity’s momentum, and right then Absol attacked. “Absol! Now! Slash!”  
Absol’s daggerlike tusk on its face glowed with a similar energy to Raticate’s tooth, and it utilized this strength to intercept Raticate’s fang. The two pokemon seemed caught in a stalemate; neither was able to move, Raticate sat on the ground, its smaller stature presenting a problem.  
A problem Absol capitalized on mercilessly. The pokemon pressed itself against Raticate, their weapons still glowing and activated. But Absol slowly compressed its head down on Raticate, and the smaller pokemon squeaked with terror.   
The dark hound was trying to crush its vertebrae.   
Steven stopped breathing. Would the battle continue until someone died? He knew it wasn’t rare for pokemon to kill each other in non-competitive battle.   
It seemed headed for that direction, until, to his relief, the grunt whipped his pokeball out and returned Raticate in a beam of red light. Thank the lords.   
The boy nodded tensely. “If I see you two pieces of shit dare harass anyone in this town, I will be ready for battle. Do you understand?”  
“Yeah, sure,” the grunt said. “Fucking psycho.” He walked away, returning the pokeball to his belt.  
The boy brought Absol back into its pokeball, and started walking away. A group of people that had been idly observing the scuffle dispersed as well.  
“Wait!” Steven blurted out.  
The boy turned his head. “Hm?”  
“I just, I wanted to talk to you. About raising your pokemon.”  
“Oh. What do you want to know?” He said, almost sardonically.  
“I guess, I just wanted to have a battle with you? I’m a trainer.” Steven ventured.  
“Heh. No.”  
The bluntness of it surprised Steven. “Why not?”  
“You didn’t do anything to help me with those goons. I try to end a battle as quickly as possible. Now I’ve got to take Absol to the pokemon center. Don’t you know anything about battling? And that was a REAL one, too. Some kids have never seen something like that. Absol could’ve been seriously hurt.”  
“Well, I just--”  
“You don’t get it, I can read it from your face. If you truly were a trainer, you would’ve understood.”  
Steven stopped speaking. He thought for a moment, trying to suppress the anger boiling inside of him. “I’m new. That’s why.”  
“I don’t battle newbies. It’d be pointless. I’d crush you. I’m not even bragging, I’m just being realistic, dude.”  
“Well, what’s your name, then? I’ll… I’ll kick your ass when I get stronger.”  
“Sure, whatever. My name’s Sidney. I’m on my way to Fortree, anyway. I’ll see you around.”  
Steven was about to speak up, that he was ALSO on his way to Fortree. But he didn’t. And Sidney walked away. They hadn’t even shook hands! Whatever, he’d make good on his self-imposed promise. He’d get stronger.  
First, he’d start with purchasing some pokeballs. The PokeMart was largely empty when he walked in. Its shaggy carpet flooring a stark contrast to the shiny glass cupboards, full of nifty little items, like potions and medicines, packaged foodstuffs, and most importantly, types of pokeballs.   
Steven could little afford to purchase some of the more expert-level pokeball devices. Prices skyrocketed beyond his mere wallet’s reach. He settled for three pokeballs. One for Beldum. And then two more for whatever wild pokemon he wanted to catch. He was a real trainer now. He had to catch more pokemon.  
Starting with Beldum. He returned to his tent and found Beldum in the corner. He pulled out the pokeball from his pocket. “Listen. I’m going to catch you. I promise, it’s to keep you safer.”  
Beldum chirped in alarm, but got closer to Steven. Fine.  
“Seriously?” Steven came back to the tent having prepared to argue with the creature, and now he was actually willing to be caught by him?  
Beldum dipped its head towards him. You. Good.  
“Me? I hope so,” Steven said, and slowly tapped Beldum on the head with the pokeball, transforming him into a beam of red light. The pokeball twitched a couple of times before coming to a stop.  
Beldum was Steven’s first pokemon. Excitedly, he packed his things and set off for Mauville.

-

The bumbling bounty hunters were, at long last, ready to take rest in the refuge of the Verdanturf Inn. Scott knew the guy who owned it, and the two joked around a little before Scott, and Rhonda retreated to go to sleep. It was late. But Matty’s day wasn’t finished yet. He hadn’t been able to get ahold of Joseph with his Nav, maybe calling from the Center would make a difference.  
Hell, he prayed it would.   
The scrawny Matty put his hands deep into his pockets to ward off the chill night air. The Pokemon Center was only a street or so down, but that made no difference in his mind, because the tents scattered to and fro across the town’s roads depressed him, and exacerbated his perpetual anxiety. Poor people, he reckoned. People who were hit hardest by the crime war, and probably Devon Corp.  
Despite the homeless population disgracing the town, even Matty had to admit that it was a pretty place; nestled in between the looming cliffs of the Rusturf Canyon.   
The Pokemon Center was lit up, always a bright spot in the darkness. It was also heated. A nurse waved at him, and walked back into a room in the back. Matty went over to one of the booths and put in a coin. He dialed Joseph’s Nav number.   
For a few moments he waited.  
No response. He tried again. Nothing.  
Matty sighed and walked back to the inn.


	8. Chapter 8

The thin nylon thread bobbed with the weight of the colorful fake bait in the sea. Wallace had set up a fishing spot on a small island off Sootopolis’ coastline. Juan was busy dealing with some gym challengers, and told Wallace he was free to go catch a pokemon. He’d handed him a few pokeballs. Wallace knew better than to pout for some GreatBalls.  
His line twitched and was wrenched with small strength. Wallace brought the hook back in to find a Luvdisc latched on. He groaned. Not strong enough for battle, even the most novice water trainers knew that. Wallace pulled Luvdisc off, easily, and tossed it back in the ocean, watching it swim away again quickly. It had slippery, soft skin. Dissections on the pokemon had shown that its skin was coated in a thin layer of sickly bittersweet fluid, and that its skeleton was practically gelatinous.   
In other words, not only was it separate from the predatory oceanic food chain, it was also immune from most humans’ exotic tastes.  
Wallace was aiming for something tough and hardy, like a Wailmer or a Horsea. Horseas weren’t exactly common in these semi-frosty waters, but they weren’t an impossible catch either.  
He felt a small tug on the line, and tried to bring it in. The line didn’t budge. “Huh?”   
Then the fishing rod nearly snapped with the weight of the catch. Wallace struggled against the pokemon’s pull, tightening his grip on the rod and digging his feet into the ground. Once he felt like he was relatively planted into the earth, he withdrew a pokeball from his pocket, ready to make the catch should the pokemon come into range.  
And that it did. Wallace watched as an enormous, and surprisingly beautiful Seaking burst out of the ocean’s surface and into the air, bait still caught in its small but powerful jaws. While airborne, its leverage over Wallace dissipated, and the boy backed up to force the creature on land. It worked. Seaking landed from the air onto the ground. The coarse sand stuck to its slimy skin as it attempted to flip-flop its way back into the welcoming saltwaters.   
But Wallace didn’t allow that. He hurled his pokeball at the creature so aggressively that his shoulder hurt for a few moments afterwards. He crossed his fingers, watching the pokeball twitch, Seaking inside it, compressed digitally into the ball.   
It twitched for a solid minute before coming to a stop. Wallace squealed with childish delight and ran to pick the pokeball up.  
At long last, he had a useful pokemon. 

-

Juan poured some tea into a small ceramic mug, which had the same color as his walls, built hundreds upon hundreds of years ago. Sootopolis hadn’t expanded in centuries, unlike most of the major cities in Hoenn. Its appeal to its largely aged populace was its cultural value. The region of Hoenn was once a sturdy chunk of a continent, until the famous meteor made its collision, and broke up the eastern half into a hodgepodge of islands. Sootopolis was built within the crater’s belly, surrounded by fortified rock.   
The rock was used by the first settlers to construct their housing. Juan was waiting in his humble home for a guest. He’d hoped for two, but Regina was far away. She didn’t usually show up to the executive meetings.  
He smirked at that. ‘Executive meetings’. As if they were some well to-do organization. Laughable. The Civil Peace Program was official, and stable, but far from organized. There were chapters in the big cities, where young trainers could enlist and volunteer to fight Team Pyre and Team Ocean. But there weren’t a whole lot of young trainers. Not a lot of competent ones anyway. And Juan had some moral issues with recruiting inexperienced kids to battle terrorists.   
True, it had been a while since the terrorists had made their advances. But that was only more reason to be wary. Precisely why he and Luna were meeting.  
He heard a loud pop from outside of his door, and smiled. That would be Luna, teleporting with her Xatu.   
She entered the unlocked door with Xatu and smiled at him. “Juan, friend. How’ve you been?” He got up to embrace her, and bowed towards Xatu, knowing that the creatures didn’t like being touched much, by anyone who wasn’t close to them.   
“Oh, it’s been quiet,” Juan said. “Two Ocean grunts a few days ago, harmless. Nothing more.”  
“Interesting. What was their purpose?”   
“Only to annoy me, I believe,” Juan said nonchalantly.   
Luna pulled a dried Caterpie tail out of her pocket and gave it to Xatu, who picked it out of her hand with his beak and gulped it down. She looked directly at Juan. “I don’t like the silence.”  
“Neither do I. And the Admiral’s not doing too well, either. I don’t understand it.” The Hoenn Armada, under Admiral Drake’s command, was floundering hopelessly among the seafaring and speedy Team Ocean. It was pathetic.   
“Oh. Yes. That reminds me. Glacia supposedly got Grinjazz. He’s dead now.”  
Juan coughed on his tea, his eyes going wide. “She did?!”  
“If my spy in Ever Grande is telling the truth, yes. Glacia managed to do something… useful.”  
“Good lord. I’ll drink to that,” Juan said, and drank some more tea. He shuddered at the thought of Grinjazz. The man and his Darmanitan were notorious for the attack on Crossgate Town. He’d attempted to make a swift takeover, and once Luna and Regina put a stop to it, he killed as many as possible with Darmanitan and left.   
In other words, it was good news to hear that Glacia had ended him.   
However, Juan still scoffed at Glacia and Drake, the two incompetent Elites. Where was Edwinth? Where was Persephonia? Everyone liked Grimsby, but he was old, and decrepit. He wasn’t… all there. For years, Juan and Luna had asked to join the Elites, to help end the Grundlin Initiative at long last. Then, the Grundlins split into two. And now it was becoming all too difficult to manage. But the Elites were prideful (dumb as rocks, if you asked Juan). Grimsby supported the Civil Peace Program, but Glacia and Drake resented it. Persephonia would’ve agreed with the CPP, but she was gone, and nobody knew where. And of course, the young Champion, Edwinth. He’d seemed so promising as well. A handsome face. A bright young mind. A truly awesome pokemon trainer. Juan was honored to have met him and battled with him.   
The young man’s mind worked in a different way than most trainers. But then he’d also gone missing. Nobody knew where he was.  
Abruptly, Juan said, “Wallace’s training is going excellently. He caught his first combat-ready pokemon, and he seems adept at making judgement calls.”  
Luna nodded. “That’s good. He’s going to be a CPP trainer one day.”  
“That’s what I think as well. He seems excited. We’re going to go to the Southern Seas later, for training.”  
“Sounds good. My sister just had twins.”  
“Twins? Congratulations, Auntie Luna!”  
Luna chuckled. “Thank you, Juan. The best part about it is that I can feel the psychic power resonate through them. Even at such a young age. They’re mentally bonded. It’s truly incredible.”  
“Whoah.”  
“Yeah. It really just makes me think that maybe there’s hope for this region.”  
Juan nodded.

-

There it was. The lusterous bird, its intimidating beak bearing several sharp teeth. It pecked at something on the ground. Steven watched it, sweat clouding his vision. His hiking hadn’t been easy. Last night he’d waited too long before setting his tent and had to find a small cave to force himself into. It hadn’t been comfortable.  
Beldum was safe inside its pokeball. He was waiting for an opportunity to train it a little. Its movepool was incredibly limited, and though the pokemon was intelligent, he knew that their wits wouldn’t be enough.  
So, with that in mind, his gaze locked in on the steel bird. He wasn’t sure what its name was exactly, but he knew that he liked its shininess. Not to mention it looked dangerous. Just the pokemon he wanted on his side.   
It was pretty large too. He reckoned its wingspan to be about seven feet, give or take. Its teeth were sharp as well. It could probably kill him if he wasn’t careful.  
But if Steven didn’t risk it here, where was his spirit of adventure? He tightened his grip on his empty pokeball and pressed the button in the middle to enlarge it. Soon enough he’d be a real trainer, armed with two pokemon. He wouldn’t be doomed if Beldum fainted in battle.  
He sprung out of the shrubbery as abruptly as possible, yelling from adrenaline. The pokeball launched out of his grasp and hit the pokemon, absorbing it in a flash of red light. Steven knew it would probably break out, and he quickly threw Beldum out of the pokeball, preparing for battle. The pokemon was probably furious.  
As he’d expected, the bird had broken out of the ball. It screeched in rage and hop-skipped towards Steven, bearing its teeth, which shone like knives in its pink and carnivorous mouth.   
“Beldum! Take Down!” Steven said frightfully. Beldum obeyed and launched himself at the bird’s chest. Beldum was much smaller, but the force managed to knock the creature off balance. It looked even angrier.   
“Beldum, keep attacking it! Distract it for me.” Steven bent over to pick up some rocks, as his own weapon. Not the best weapon around, certainly, but it would do. He couldn’t leave Beldum to fend for himself. The bird would kill him, perhaps.   
Beldum floated in the air, goading the bird and launching himself at its neck whenever he got the chance. The bird was equally deft in its movements, avoiding most of Beldum’s strikes. It was a stalemate, until suddenly, the bird got the upper hand, and slashed its wing against Beldum’s face, smacking him to the ground. Beldum chirped in pain.   
A well-aimed shot of stone caught Skarmory in the head. The bird growled and turned towards Steven.   
“Over here, birdie. Over here.” Steven fought to suppress his fear and steeled his gaze. The bird could easily peck his brains out. As it lumbered towards him, Beldum arose from behind. Steven kept chucking rocks, most of them glancing harmlessly off of the pokemon’s wings, or missing entirely. It was all a ruse, a distraction.  
Beldum smashed itself into the back of the bird’s head. The pokemon fell to the ground, momentarily stunned. Beldum fell to the ground as well, exhausted from the effort. This was exactly why Steven needed another pokemon. To shoulder the burden.  
“Go, pokeball!” He yelled, for some reason, and threw the ball at the bird. Once again, it was absorbed. The ball shook, assessing the bird’s desire to be free versus its desire to assimilate into the virtual environment. One shake. Two shake. Three shake.  
The ball stopped. Steven knew what that meant. He’d caught his very first wild pokemon. He could hardly help the cheery grin from spreading across his face. Beldum chirped.

-

On the road, again. Matty cursed internally. It seemed even the ‘adventure’ had fallen into monotony, as he perpetually found himself in an infinite loop of self-pity and aggressive compliance. One part of him detested the very idea of commiserating with two wandering thugs for hire. Another part wanted more than anything to be respected by the hunters, to be valued as a member of the team.  
At the moment, he was dead weight. He was just there to keep an eye on them, really, and both of them knew it. Matty knew that Joseph knew that he was woefully unqualified to go out into the wilderness of Hoenn and track down his truant son. It was all about trust. And perhaps also another one of Joseph’s tests.   
One time, Steven had gotten lost in Rustboro, somewhere, with Wallace. Joseph had sent Matty on the task of finding the lad. It hadn’t been very hard. The two were near the Center. Just hanging out.   
This was another test. It had to be.   
Matty’s thoughts were interrupted by a shout, coming from an approaching group of Team Pyre grunts. His breath stilled, and his walk stiffened. Scott, on the other hand, loosened up considerably. “Greetings, travelers!”  
The fatter grunt chuckled. “Scott. It’s good to see you.”  
“Likewise, brother. Come, let’s walk together. Where’re you off to?”  
“Crossgate. Some trouble there, a rogue trainer or something. The usual.”  
Scott laughed. “You’ve gotta tell me what happens there. I always like hearing about strong trainers.”  
“Well, what happened there?”  
Scott shrugged. “Y’know. Just never got around to it. I’ve got Grumpig. Remember when he was a Spoink?”  
The fat grunt nodded. Matty couldn’t believed what he was hearing. Why was Scott so casually chatting up a terrorist? Rhonda seemed indifferent, she walked ahead of the group.  
Matty was tempted to join her, but his morbid curiosity outweighed his general annoyance toward Scott.   
The skinnier grunt smirked at him. “Scott. What’re you doing with this guy? I recognize him. He’s Stone’s clerk.”  
Matty swallowed. How could the terrorist know that he worked for Joseph? He prayed that Scott would defend him, or at least maintain the secrecy of their mission.  
“Oh, yeah. Good ol’ Matty.” Scott flashed a condescending sneer at him. “Stone said we had to bring him along. It’s part of the mission. I’m not supposed to talk about it, sorry.”  
“He looks like a stick. You’ve never considered roasting him over the fire? He looks like he’s never spent a day outside in his life.”   
Matty’s gaze faltered and he blinked. “W-well--”  
Scott laughed loudly, smacking Matty on the back. “You’re damn right. He’s a lazy son-of-a-bitch if I ever saw one!”  
They all laughed. Now Matty desperately wanted to leave, but knew it would be perceived as a further weakness. He just wanted to rest.  
“Hey, Tabitha,” Scott addressed the fat grunt. “It’s good to talk to you again. It’s been a boring mission. With pale-boy here and silent-treatment over there, you know.”  
Tabitha chuckled. “I hear you. I’ve got a couple minutes, but I seriously need to get to Crossgate.”  
“I need help dealing with dipwad over here,” Scott chuckled, gesturing towards Matty. Tabitha laughed. “Oh, well. Sounds like an important role, there.”  
“Sure, sure. Matty, why don’t you run ahead and collect berries or something?” Scott said in a patronizing tone of voice. Matty grit his teeth. “I’m good.”  
“I dunno. You need some meat put on you, buddy,” Tabitha said.  
“I’m good,” Matty repeated himself.   
“Are you?” Tabitha casually tossed a pokeball into the air. An Arbok appeared, and Matty flinched backwards. “Why don’t you tell that to her?”  
The pokemon hissed and flicked her forked tongue at him, her slim eyes full of unfeeling venom. He looked away, but her gaze never faltered.   
Scott chuckled. “Ah, Matty, don’t be such a little bitch.” Then, he paused. “And Tabitha… call off that fucking thing. Let’s just calm down for a second.”  
“You afraid of Patty?”  
“You named your Arbok Patty? Seriously?” Scott guffawed, and the Arbok hissed, small drops of liquid poison dripping from its hungry glands.  
“Sure did. She’s a beauty. Is she not?”  
“Sure is. Now. Won’t you let us go on our merry way? I’ve got a job, friend.”  
Tabitha smiled. “Just keep that runt of yours in check.”  
“I try.” Scott smacked Matty on the back. “Don’t I?”  
Matty ground his teeth to powder.   
Tabitha pressed his finger into Matty’s chest. “Don’t get too quiet on us, buddy.”  
There were few moments in Matty’s life where he felt well and justified in looking something in the eye and tackling it head on. With Joseph, he’d grown accustomed to the ego.   
Yet he still didn’t know how to deal with the barbarians currently screwing every fucking thing in his life up. An Arbok looked him dead in the eyes. Matty bit his tongue and murmured, “Okay.”  
Tabitha chortled. “That’s the spirit.”  
With that, they departed. Scott and Tabitha said goodbye with some asinine handshake, Rhonda remained unexpressive as usual. Tabitha and his nondescript friend continued to Crossgate Town.   
When evening fell on the road they walked, the trio hunkered down to build their usual tent. Matty helped, in order to fend off the tears that threatened to pour out of him like a reservoir. He missed home. He missed the clean tidiness of the office space in Rustboro. He missed knowing when his next meal would come, and he missed having his day organized to the dot.   
Most of all, though, he despised Scott. With a furious, poisonous passion, he despised the slightly overweight lunatic with an equally loathsome Grumpig. Rhonda’s indifference and condesension he could tolerate, if only just. It was Scott’s mean-spirited and sadistic nature that made him apoplectic.   
Late in the night, Matty crept out of the tent in as stealthy a fashion as possible. The forest surrounding the hiking trail was pitch black aside from the fire. What Matty didn’t notice was Rhonda sitting by the flame, nurturing it with all the love and affection of a prison guard. Matty reached around the camp for a large blunt stick with which to beat Scott senseless. He didn’t want to kill Scott, simply scare him out of ever trying to bully him again. When finally he found his ideal stick, he turned back to the tent he shared with Scott and caressed the end of it with his left hand.   
“You’re gonna kill him, aren’t you.” Rhonda’s voice made Matty’s blood freeze. It wasn’t even phrased as a question. She sounded as blank as a chalkboard, and her voice had the same effect as chalk screeching down, sending chills down Matty’s spine.   
It only took a few seconds for Matty to stammer a response, but those singular moments took up what felt like hours. The adrenaline coursing through his veins cut off the noises from the woods, the midnight breeze that was both dismissable and unbearably cold.   
“I--I’m not going to kill him.”  
Rhonda shrugged. A small motion, almost undetectable. “I don’t care. But that stick won’t make it a quick one.”  
Matty was incredulous. Then, to prevent any moral quandary from scooping him up and dropping him off in unknown territory, he smashed the stick into Scott’s flabby body through the canvas. Scott immediately awoke and yelped in pain, but Matty continued with his assault, feeling what was probably Scott’s ribcage nearly buckle underneath his wooden warhammer. Scott screeched.   
Despite Matty’s reckless blows, Scott was quick for his size and he emerged from the tent with unbelievable speed and determination. He got a good look at Matty and sneered with sadistic anticipation.   
Matty gulped, and began to back away slowly. Rhonda continued staring into the fire, still apathetic.   
Scott walked slowly towards Matty. His fear of Scott’s anger and the dark forest paralyzed him, and he found that he could not move.   
He could not move. At all. Then he saw it. Behind Scott’s bulky thighs stood Grumpig, its black crystal glowing like an eerie full moon. Grumpig stared very intently at him, its obtuse feet thumping on the ground rhythmically, keeping him frozen in his spot, unable to physically move anything.   
Matty panicked. He was unable to run, scream, or hide, and he felt his pants soil. Even his eyes were locked open and forced to look into Scott’s cruel gaze. A tear rolled down his cheek, despite his brain’s futile pleas.   
And then, Scott swung. He couldn’t possibly miss, what with Matty petrified, and so his fist connected with Matty’s jaw.  
Matty reeled with pain, and his head flew into orbit from the blow, but just as soon as he was punched, Grumpig brought his head swinging back into place, with no care for his neck’s sensibilities.   
Scott took a few deep breaths and then braced himself for a second swing. Once again, he had no choice but to land it, and his fleshy fist plunged into Matty’s gut with the force of a steam train. Matty tried to curl up, but was stopped by the determined Grumpig.   
“I think that’ll be enough, Grumpig.”  
Finally, Grumpig allowed Matty to collapse. He fell to the ground, in unbelievable pain, and vomited onto the grass next to his head. Everything hurt.  
“You see, Matty, my friend, only weak-minded folks are vulnerable to Grumpig’s psychic domination. Two punches. I knew from the moment that I met you that you were pathetic.”  
He spat on Matty’s disheveled and beaten body.   
“Nothing’s changed.”

**More flooding in Pacifidlog Town**

Our latest reports from dispatched helicopters in the area indicate an unusually high amount of flooding, an amount that the citizens of the low-income community haven’t witnessed in a long time. We are currently unable to obtain ground-level reports, but rest assured that we will learn as much as possible about the disastrous situation. 


	9. Kingmaker

_Five years earlier._

“A toast, my dear Archer?” Maulfin said with a sly grin. Archer smiled in return and nodded. “Of course. I expect nothing else.”   
Maulfin beckoned a grunt over and asked him to fetch some Nomel wine from the cabinet, and the grunt swiftly obeyed. Todd, his name was, Archer recalled, and the grunt set the bottle down on the table.   
“Well?” Maulfin asked.   
“Oh, right. Sorry, sir.” Todd took a corkscrew from one of the drawers and began working at the cork. Finally it came off with a popping noise, and he set it back down on the table, awaiting further instructions.   
“Very well. I’ll pour it myself, then. You’re dismissed, Todd.” With that, Todd exited the dining hall, presumably headed off to the barracks to get a good night of sleep.   
Maulfin took a small sip of his wine. “I know that look, Archie. I know you think I’m being too harsh with our grunts.”  
“I didn’t say that.”  
“No, but your face implied it.”  
“Look, I just don’t see a point in treating them like servants. We all have the same goal, and we recruited them because they shared in our ideals.” Not many were bold enough to stand up to Maulfin’s intensity. Archer was one of the rare few. It came with knowing him for as long as he had.   
“Archer, I want more than just to control of the ecosystem. I want control of the politics in this region as well. You and I know too damn well how important petty politics are in deciding the fate of the region. The only way we can take control is with an army. What we have now is what the Elite Four will call extremism. They call us terrorists.”  
“You told me you wanted to be feared by the Elite Four.”  
“They don’t fear us. They’re only bothered by us. And the power doesn’t only lie with the Elite Four. Stone is a key player as well.”  
Archer smiled. “Not anymore.” Maulfin chuckled, and the two toasted their frail wine glasses.   
“But seriously. One heist won’t be enough to make a difference. Like I said, it’s just terrorism to the elites. They won’t view us as a threat until we do some legitimate damage. Until we throw the region off balance.”  
Archer shook his head and put his hands to the bridge of his nose. “Maulfin. The goal was to BRING the region to balance.”  
“Of course. But in order to bring balance one must first have control.”  
“I suppose you’re right.”  
“Do you remember those few days on your father’s ship? When we got lost out at sea during that storm, and we nearly got thrown overboard?”  
“I remember.”  
“Do you remember how we made it out alive?”  
“My dad’s determination. The crew’s effort. We made it out just like we would any other obstacle. As a crew.”  
“But first, you had to take control of the ship.”  
Archer paused. “I suppose you’re right.”  
Maulfin smiled, and rose from his stool abruptly. “It was a good drink, Archer. I appreciate you for sharing it with me. I’m going to go to my bedroom now. Think about what I said.”  
Archer shook his hand. “Sure thing. Get a good night’s rest, my friend.”

-

News reached Juan quickly, especially when it regarded sea towns, his specialty. He’d taken it upon himself and his squadron of young water trainers to keep the eastern oceans a safe place. Kyogre was a fickle god, and storms were aplenty. But the rage of the ocean was precisely what attracted him and so many of the ancient settlers, who’d expanded Hoenn with their maritime dedication.   
Pacifidlog was a relatively new town, only established two-hundred-odd years ago under desperate conditions. Many of the first inhabitants were lower-income families from Slateport, LaRousse, and Lilycove who’d decided to strike out on their own. They were a resolute people, with a desire for independence. The Elite Four’s jurisdiction was limited, despite Pacifidlog’s proximity to Ever Grande, the capital.   
Quite simply, the people of Pacifidlog resented any help from outsiders. This was made even clearer when they refused to build a gym in their town. A staunch revolt against the Elite Four’s pro-trainer policies. They wanted no part of the Pokemon League, and as a result there were very few trainers who actually lived in the town.   
But they did like Juan. The young’uns of the town idolized him, and the elderly respected him. He was a young man imbued with a purpose, and it was hard to find any reason to dislike him. He came to assistance without requiring some sort of payment, and that was valuable in the rough-n-tough seas of the southeast.   
Juan arrived as quickly as possible, surfing on Kingdra, and accompanied by his water squadron. Wallace, with his newly caught Seaking. Clara, with her Mantine. Jerrod, with his Poliwrath.   
They were a small squadron, but Juan had seen them in action before. This was not their first rescue mission in Pacifidlog.   
He spotted the rustic Pacifidlog huts five hundred yards away. “Worry not, Kingdra. We’re almost there.” To the other trainers, he called out “Prepare to clear the water out of the town, trainers! Recall the Surf technique I taught you!”  
“Seaking doesn’t know Surf!” Wallace cried out.   
“That’s all right! We’ll figure it out when we get there, the first priority is to deliver the kids to higher ground!” Juan knew that the safehouse was likely being put to use. But they were large families, and the kids would drown, or worse, be attacked by Carvanha.  
Or even worse, Sharpedo. He thought to himself, and quickly focused on something less gruesome.   
“We’re going to keep swimming into town. Instruct your pokemon to detect for any movement underwater. I want to ensure that no child is left behind.”  
“Got it, captain,” Clara said.   
The four trainers split up; Clara and Jerrod went separate ways, down the flooded roads of Pacifidlog. Juan made sure Wallace was close behind him, he was still relatively inexperienced.   
Wallace rode Seaking well. It probably wasn’t too comfortable; the pokemon was slimy and rotund, but it was friendly and wasn’t overly aggressive and that was what counted.   
“Wallace. Right now I want you to search for straggling children. Shout names, listen in, everything. Seaking will be able to help you underwater, but it’s up to you to look around outside. We’ll meet back in this… plaza in an hour. Most families are in the safe house on the cliff right now. But you can never be too certain that everyone’s accounted for.”  
“Aye aye, Juan.” Wallace went surfing towards the Kyogre shrine on the eastern half of town, and Juan went in the other direction. The town was built on several large platforms and surrounded by rock. Some houses were built on said rock, but generally most preferred the wooden platforms, which were connected by small bridges. The huts built on the platforms had been swept away by the flooding, and Juan figured the townspeople had evacuated to the safehouse on top of the rock face. There was an older woman, a veteran trainer by the name of Illia, whose Whiscash knew Waterfall and helped everyone scale the fifteen-foot cliff in times of emergency. Juan knew they weren’t helpless, but still… he worried.   
And he grew more worried when Kingdra yelped for his attention.   
“What is it, Kingdra?”   
“Kingdra!”   
Then Juan noticed it. There were about five dark Carvanha swimming through the frigid water, towards him and his pokemon. “Kingdra, Dragon Dance.” He spoke in a voice that he knew calmed his pokemon down. And Kingdra followed his command without hesitation, spreading its dorsal fins and channeling draconic energy. Juan felt his pokemon grow more powerful.   
“Kingdra, evade the Carvanha. Let’s get to a safer spot.”  
Juan’s Kingdra, ingrained with greater power, cut through the vicious ocean currents like a butter, smashing into the smaller Carvanha on his way through. The bloodthirsty little things backed away slightly. That was when Juan noticed the Team Ocean grunts standing on the ledges jutting out of the face of the cliff. They looked scared, now that he’d seen them. The Carvanha were probably theirs.   
“Idiots,” he muttered under his breath, and stepped onto wooden platform submerged into the water. It tipped underneath his weight, but Juan was used to the rockiness of the sea, and maintained his balance. “Kingdra. Use a Hydro Pump on the rocks underneath those… people.”   
One of the grunts screamed.  
Kingdra took careful aim and fired a concentrated hose of water at one of the ledges. The rock crumbled under the pressure, and the grunt fell into the sea, howling downwards. Juan wasn’t done. He wanted to get some information out of the man before he let them swim back to their terrorist leader. “Kingdra, use Whirlpool to bring him to me.”  
Kingdra churned the water underneath with his tail, swirling it about. Juan nearly lost balance due to mere proximity, but the Whirlpool pulled the grunt underwater and towards the duo. When the Whirlpool subsided, he surfaced with heaving breaths and clung on to the edge of the wooden platform. “Please don’t hurt me, Mr. Juan. Please.”  
“What were you and your brutish friends going to do to this town?”  
“We were just going to steal whatever washed away in the flood, Mr. Juan. That’s it, I promise. Please let me live. Please.”  
“Do calm down. I’m no savage. But I’m afraid you and your pathetic allies will be forced to depart. And I advise you not to return.”  
“Yes, Mr. Juan. I promise we won’t. Please don’t hurt me.”  
Juan nearly punched the man, but resisted the urge. Clearly, there were no children left behind. Kingdra would’ve sensed it long ago. A weight was lifted off his chest. The townspeople were a hardy bunch. They lived in the harsh environment long enough to prepare for disaster when it inevitably struck.   
After Juan and his squadron saw to it that every single Team Ocean grunt had gone swimming away with their tails between their legs, they scaled the rock face using Jerrod’s Poliwrath, who knew Waterfall.   
The safehouse was essentially a longhouse constructed from wood and canvas. The duality of the Hoenn region never failed to surprise Juan. In Mauville, the citizens lived with electric grids and a highly advanced commute system. In Pacifidlog and Dewford it was an entirely different story.   
A few of the elders and the children rushed out to greet the squadron. The elders bore fatigued smiles, but the children barely seemed to notice the fact that their town was temporarily destroyed. They were innocent, and the fragile nature of their lives hadn’t yet dawned on them.   
Jerrod and Clara played with the kids. Jerrod had even let Poliwrath join in on the fun, and the beefy pokemon lifted the tiny kids into the air.   
Wallace was off on his own, standing on the edge of the cliff. Juan had to smile at that. The boy just wasn’t good with children.   
With a sigh, Juan entered the longhouse.

-

Foothill Town was generally unassuming timber town. There were about a thousand residents, and Steven found the local inn to be comfortable enough for his liking. He didn’t want to stop for too long, but he figured that at least one night of rest couldn’t hurt. He also wanted to train Skarmory and Beldum, and there were a few trainers he’d seen in the central plaza, pitting their pokemon against one another.   
The only downside was that there was no Pokemon Center to be found.   
One of the locals, a teenager named Tupp showed him around town. “If I ever need someone to take a look at my Furret, Dr. Moss is my guy. He’s basically our doctor around here. After we battle I’ll take you to him. He’s better than any Pokemon Center.”  
“Alright, I believe you.”  
The two made their way to the town plaza. What caught Steven’s eye was a gem shop, called Mother Stone but he turned his attention back to Tupp, who threw a pokeball in the air, revealed his Furret.   
“Who’re you gonna use?” Tupp asked with a smirk. “Furret and I are ready to go.”  
“Hmm,” Steven thought. “Go, Skarmory!”  
Skarmory emerged from the red pokeball and hovered in the air. It squawked. “Skaaar!”  
“Skarmory, huh? Alright.”  
Steven walked over to one side of the impromptu arena. A couple of kids playing with a soccer ball stopped and looked. Despite himself, Steven felt a jolt of excitement up his abdomen. His heart swelled.   
A look passed between him and Tupp, and the battle commenced. “Furret! Quick Attack!”  
Furret growled and then dashed at lightning speed at Skarmory. Steven froze, not having expected the pokemon to move so quickly. “Skarmory… dodge it!” But it was too late. Furret crashed into Skarmory, knocking him to the ground. “No!” Steven cried.   
Skarmory surprised him by flying up again, taking the hit with grace. Tupp steeled his gaze. “Furret, use Defense Curl!” The Furret rolled up into a ball and puffed out its fur slightly, appearing to grow in size. Skarmory flew back a bit.   
“Skarmory! Peck!” Steven’s command sent Skarmory diving towards Furret, who was still coiled up, taut as a rope. Skarmory’s metallic beak punctured through Furret’s defenses, and the coil unraveled. Furret rolled over, back to its feet with smooth agility.   
“You’ve got the advantage,” Tupp said. “That’s why I used Defense Curl. I’m not gonna let your steel-type break me down. Furret! Fury Swipes!” Furret gave a cry and then leapt into the air to deliver several blows from its smallish paws. Skarmory resisted the attack with ease, however. “Skarmory! Metal Claw, now, while Furret’s in range!” Skarmory pulled one wing back mid-flight, and then swung it forward with a metallic sheen to collide into Furret’s body in midair. Furret was sent flying back into the earth.   
“Great job, Skarmory!” Steven yelled, ecstatic. Furret tried standing up a few times, but collapsed. “Shoot,” Tupp said. “You did great, Furret.” He returned Furret to his pokeball and walked over to Steven to shake his hand.   
“Good battle,” Steven said.  
“You’re lucky Furret’s a normal type, man,” Tupp said with a shake of his head.   
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
“You really have a lot to learn, huh? Well, I’m no expert on matchups but my dad always told me never to pick a fight with a steel pokemon. I’m actually impressed you caught Skarmory to begin with. How’d you catch him?”  
“Well, it’s a bit of a secret,” Steven said sheepishly.   
“C’mon, man. You can trust me.”  
“All right. Fine. I can’t show you now, but basically, I’ve got this mostly unknown pokemon from a… circus in Rustboro. And it helped me take Skarmory down to where I could catch it.”  
“Hold on. There’s a guy in town who might be able to help you learn more about that unknown pokemon. He’s kind of a weirdo, but I think he’ll know his shit.”  
Steven raised his eyebrows. He’d never turn down information on a pokemon, especially his mysterious partner. “Take me to him, then. I’m interested.”   
“That shop. Right there.” Tupp pointed to the gemstone shop, the one called Mother Stone. “Like I said. He’s a weird guy, and it’s a weird place, but he knows his shit.”  
Steven didn’t know what intrigued him more about the shop; the gemstones or the mythical shopkeeper But he didn’t want to wait all day to find out, and so he entered the shop with a precariousness suited only for cryptic passages. Tupp followed behind.   
A bell rung when they entered, and before them was a small corridor. They were surrounded on all sides by gemstones, sold on the walls of the claustrophobic corridor. The merchandise looked real from what Steven could recognize. At the end of the corridor was a balding man with one nostril. Steven didn’t even notice him at first, because a dazzling green emerald had caught his eye. The inclusions left upon the gemstone indicated its legitimacy, and Steven let out bated breath.   
“Do you like what you see, boy?” The one-nostriled man said. Steven was startled by his voice. “Uh, yes. Yes sir. This is a real emerald, right?”   
“Indeed it is. You’ve got a good eye.”  
Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Tupp standing near the entrance, looking rather uncomfortable. “Tupp? You coming in?”  
Tupp turned to him. “I don’t think so. I’m gonna go back home, man. See you.”  
Steven was somewhat nonplussed by how strange Tupp was behaving, but he waved goodbye and turned back to the one-nostriled man. “I’ve got a bit of a question, I suppose.”  
“Tell me.”  
Steven let Beldum out of his pokeball onto the floor.   
“Hold on, kid. Didn’t you read the sign outside? No pokemon allowed.”  
“Please, sir.” Steven picked Beldum up from his ground level levitation and showed the one-nostriled shopkeeper. “I need to know more about my pokemon.”  
“That’s a Beldum.”  
“I know that! I need to know more.”  
“It’s got two evolutions.”  
“Really?” Steven asked with a grin. “That’s incredible!”  
“Yeah, yeah. Tell you what, kid. If you buy the emerald, I’ll throw in a little extra for you. It’ll be a surprise, but I think you’re gonna like it.”  
“Deal!” Steven had wanted to get the emerald anyway, to get a bonus gift was the cherry on top. The man reached underneath the counter and seemed to be searching for something with his hands. “Here,” he said, “Is the emerald,” handing Steven the pure green gemstone.  
Steven held the thing in his hands and allowed himself to be awestruck for a moment.   
“And here,” the one-nostriled shopkeeper said, “Is the surprise.”  
And it was an interesting surprise to say the least. To Steven, it looked like an extra fancy marble with its yellow streak, but at least he was getting it for free. He forked over some of his cash to the man.  
Steven Stone left the Mother Stone a happy man. 

-

Several days had gone by since Matty’s abuse at the hands of Scott and Grumpig. They proceeded to Mauville with general fatigue. Scott treated Matty like a friend, which horrified Matty even more. Rhonda was still a hollow husk of a human in his eyes, and the mission was doomed to fail. Everything was doomed to fail. His job, his future, his purpose on the planet, in the universe.  
Everything.  
It was a few days on the road from Verdanturf when the hunger began to set in on Matty’s already lean frame. Scott, being the large man that he was, consumed more than the other two members of the party. Rhonda and Scott used their pokemon to hunt for meat, and so Matty ended up taking berry foraging duty, which scared him, like everything else, because wild pokemon lurked in the bushes, and in the trees, and everywhere. Everywhere he turned there was something to be frightened of.  
Everywhere.  
Scott and Rhonda weren’t terribly generous either, meaning that Matty tended to eat less than them, and so he began to starve at a much faster rate than either of them. He’d been counting in his head, and by his lethargic calculations, he’d gone for twenty-eight hours without feeling full. He itched at night and he could barely get any rest when Scott rested his fleshy, moist hands on his back at night, shuffling closer and closer with every snore, until he smothered Matty, like what he’d seen that gigantic Ursaring do to his Deenie.   
There was more to that memory, but Matty usually resisted recalling the bloody mess left over by the Ursaring. The day started off fine enough. Matty had no friends at the Rustboro Academy. But school wasn’t too tedious, thankfully, and home was only fifteen minutes away by walking distance. They lived on the outskirts of Rustboro, where the urban sprawl began to fade into dense forest. Matty lived in a small cabin with his mother, father, and Herdier, or Deenie, which he’d known since they’d adopted her as a Lillipup. The pokemon was his only true friend. The two had spent hours charting the woods for themselves, and Deenie did a good enough job of defending Matty if they ever encountered a rogue Poochyena or such.   
Matty’s dad had always warned him to slowly back away if he ever ran into an Ursaring, by far the most deadly pokemon species in the woods. Ursaring were generally only harmful if provoked.   
Not this Ursaring. Deenie had been acting strange all day, and it culminated in her running off into the woods, leaving Matty alone… and deathly afraid. It was beginning to get dark, and Matty wasn’t sure of his way back home, and didn’t want to leave Deenie behind.   
Then he’d heard the deep and vicious snarl from behind him, and the crackle of the leaves and sticks being stepped on. Matty slowly turned around, and nearly soiled himself. A whimper escaped his dry throat, and he froze in his spot.  
An Ursaring, on all fours, sniffing and growling in his direction. It was a massive creature, with heavy fur on its shoulders and a dark brown pelt. Matty backed away, slowly, and Ursaring rose up on its hind legs.   
It looked tense.  
Something was afoot.   
Suddenly, the tension snapped when Deenie barked, dashing in between Ursaring and Matty. Deenie barked and snarled more aggressively than Matty had ever seen, but all it did was anger the Ursaring more, until Ursaring roared with such unbelievable volume that Matty began to cry from fear.   
Then, the Ursaring began to lope towards him and Deenie, with ferocious speed. It was at that moment that Matty took off, hoping that Deenie would trail behind him. He ran for a few seconds, but didn’t hear his loyal hound’s quick-footed scamper. He turned to look, and that was when he saw his valiant Deenie attempt to dodge and weave Ursaring’s gigantic paws.   
But all it took was one strike of Ursaring’s claws to knock Deenie off balance, and she fell to the ground. Ursaring took the opportunity to pin her down with its giant paw.   
Matty heard Deenie yelp with desperation, but suddenly her whining was cut short when Ursaring applied more weight, and Deenie’s ribcage splintered.  
Matty ran. He shut off his brain and let adrenaline take the wheel, running until his lungs were heaving and sweat dripped in his eyes, obstructing his vision. He ran until he saw a house, one that he didn’t recognize, and pounded on the door. Before anyone answered, he’d passed out on the front porch.   
Hours later Matty had awakened. The neighbors had recognized the Gladstiff kid, and called Matty’s parents right away. His dad was confused, and had been worried sick over his absence. When Matty did speak, he spoke slowly, which his dad took note of, because with him and his mother, Matty had always been animated.   
“Deenie is dead,” Matty said, suddenly.  
“What?” Matty’s father asked. “What do you mean? How did she die?”  
“There was an Ursaring in the woods. The Ursaring killed Deenie.”  
Matty’s father didn’t respond.  
“Are you mad at me, dad?”  
His dad sighed. “No. We’ll talk more when we get home. You need rest.”  
“I wanna bury Deenie.”  
“Tomorrow.”  
Matty’s mother hugged him when he got home, and asked him what had happened. Some gesture or facial expression passed between her and Matty’s father, and she let him go to his room to sleep. He slept like a log for ten hours.   
The next day Matty was woken up at dawn by his father, who held a shovel in his hand and had placed another one next to Matty’s nightstand. “Get your hiking clothes on. And bring a jacket. It’s cold.”  
They walked with their shovels for what seemed like hours, Matty trying to find the way back to where it all happened. Neither of them talked. All Matty could think about was the advice his dad had given him once about dealing with wild pokemon. It was simple advice. They were wild. He’d told him to always assume they would respond with excess ferocity. They weren’t trained, they wouldn’t resist for the sake of sport. They were wild, and they would behave accordingly. And it was Matty’s fault for risking his loyal pokemon’s life. He’d forgotten the first rule of the outdoors.   
Eventually, Matty began to recognize the trees and the little rocks on the ground that he’d noticed the previous day.   
The smell of carrion permeated the air.   
“There’s Deenie,” his dad said, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice. His voice cracked slightly.   
Matty found that he could not speak. The two looked down at Deenie’s gruesome and fragile body, which had been ripped apart and transformed into a bloody heap.   
“Let’s start digging, son,” Matty’s dad said with a hoarse voice.   
The two of them dug for an hour or two before using their shovels to transport Deenie’s corpse into the hole. It took another thirty minutes to fill the grave back up.   
Matty collected a few rounded stones and put them atop the heap of dirt. His face contorted and his eyes reddened.   
His father spoke. “Say goodbye, Matty.”  
But Matty couldn’t speak through the tears, and he fell into his father’s arms, blaming and cursing himself for everything. 

-

It was an unusually cool day on the road. Skarmory was flying above the trees, and Beldum levitated near Steven’s waist, following him along. Steven had faith that Skarmory would return, but of course, he was still freshly caught. It was impossible to know for sure. He assumed the pokemon wanted to do its own hunting.   
“Beldum. What do you think of Skarmory, huh?” Steven asked.  
Nothing from Beldum. It looked at him with its singular eye and then went back to staring at the road ahead.   
Steven heard a caw and saw Skarmory descend and land a few yards in front of him, its lustrous wings illuminated by the piercing sun. “Not bad, Skarmory!”  
If Skarmory understood his trainer, he didn’t indicate it. He gave Steven an odd look and took off into the sky once more, powerfully beating his wings until ascending properly into the air.   
Steven couldn’t help but notice Skarmory’s sharp talons, the way his pokemon effortlessly preyed on the meek Wurmple and Zigzagoon that populated the woods in droves. He considered his relationship with Skarmory, and wondered if he’d be able to earn its trust enough to ride on its back into the air.  
The thought of flight alone was enough to bring a smile to Steven’s face. If Matty and the stupid bounty hunters ever managed to catch up with him, he’d swing himself onto Skarmory’s back and just like that, he’d pilot his bird out of harm’s way.  
It was a pleasant fantasy for a boy who’d spent his entire childhood only dreaming of owning and raising his very own pokemon. He felt insecure. Beldum was definitely a mighty ally to have, but not quite usable in battle yet. And he was sure that one day, it would come to that. Beldum would have to learn more than Take Down in order to defend itself. Skarmory was tough, but not invincible. At the end of the day, all of them were vulnerable.  
Every day that went by without a hitch worried him.

-

The Admiral stood on the deck of the SS Draco, the evening winds of the sea brushing over him peacefully, in spite of the rage that was eating away at him, whitening his once deep black hair. For the umpteenth time in over a week, he berated himself for having allowed Stone’s slimey behavior. The scumbag had swindled him yet again. Stone had promised delivery within two weeks… and time was ticking away.   
The Admiral wanted his shipyard fit for a battle, or an ambush. Team Ocean wasn’t shy about raiding his ships in the dead of the night. The grunts were clumsy, but they were persistent.   
And what frustrated him most was Juan, Luna, and Regina’s constant meddling. The pathetic CPP were driving him nuts with their vigilante bullshit. Sure, they got the job done, but how could it possibly look to the ordinary citizens of Hoenn? To them, the region must’ve appeared a mess. Edwinth and Persephonia gone, and Glacia the silent type as usual. She was a newcomer, too, and though the Admiral trusted her with his life, he knew that the people of Hoenn wouldn’t. It was up to him to lead the region.  
As always, he felt as if the responsibility passed on to him, despite being pure happenstance, was the universe’s way of guiding him towards greatness. Surely a great sea captain could lead a region out of its own pitfalls?  
Sure he could. 


	10. Lonesome

Chapter 10

-

_Eight years earlier._

He was a skinny child, his clothes dirtied and his face smudged with grease and filth. He inhabited the nooks and crannies of his small town, eating whatever his Absol cub managed to retrieve him. He subsisted on the occasional kindhearted stranger. Never had he considered theft, in any capacity. He could not recall his mother, but he was certain she wouldn’t have approved. No matter how desperate his circumstances.   
It wasn’t a well-traveled town. If you were born in Lavaridge, that’s where you stayed. People didn’t deign to come through very often, unless it was to visit the sporadically active volcano, which last erupted thirty-something years ago. There were the emergency routines that followed, but hope was a rare commodity. The boy didn’t have much of it.   
At six, he was still a child. And somehow the naivete once harbored had been quashed to the point where he knew full well just how vulnerable he was to his environment and to a stranger.   
These days, there were plenty of strangers afoot. They were men and women that he’d never seen before, around town. Most of the people in town were well-known to him; after all, it wasn’t a large town, making the strangers stand out even more.   
They wore red; that was common to all of them. They spoke in hushed tones, and smiled eerily whenever he stared at them for too long. They made his hair stand on end. There was something intensely foreboding about their presence in his town.   
The closest encounter he’d ever had, the one that had stuck with him since, was when the tallish, red-haired, bespectacled man he’d seen around came up to him, while he and Absol rested next to Bassa’s shop.   
“Sidney, is it?” The red-haired man asked.   
Sidney blinked. “That’s my name.” His fist clenched nervously.   
“I couldn’t help but notice just how much your Absol is bonded to you. I hope you understand my curiosity.”  
“What’s your name?” Sidney asked, with a glint in his eyes.   
“I’m sorry, I can’t believe I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Maximus. But my colleagues refer to me as Maxie. Or Doctor Maxie.”  
That made Sidney ease up a bit. Maxie was a doctor. “You’re a doctor? For Pokemon?”  
Maxie smiled and stroked his chin. “Well, I do have some experience in that field, of course. But I tend to leave the medical side of things to the nurses. I’d like to see a Pokemon Center here one day.”  
Sidney nodded. “Me too, sir. A lot of us want that.”  
Maxie leaned in, smiling even more broadly. “Do you want to know what I do?”  
Sidney was hesitant, but didn’t want to be impolite. “Sure.”  
“I’m a student of the legends! I study the earth beneath our feet and the legendary pokemon that crafted the world we live in today.”  
This grabbed Sidney’s attention. “You mean, like Groudon?”  
“Yes! Exactly. You’re very bright, you know?”  
“Hmm. Well, I just listen to what Bassa tells me. She knows a lot about Groudon, and Kyogre, and the dragons.”  
“Does she now? Well, Sidney, I have an offer for you, if you’re interested.”  
Sidney looked down, slightly suspicious, but his curiosity outweighed any of his hesitations. “Sure. What’s the offer?”  
“How would you like to study under my teaching? Together, we can learn more and more about Groudon. He leaned in, whispering now. “Maybe we can learn how to harness Groudon’s power for ourselves.”  
For a moment, Sidney was incredulous. He thought about the possibilities. If Maxie was being serious, then what kind of power would that be? And what could be done with it? Could Sidney help his town? Maybe he could rule the world! The idea of that didn’t appeal to him, much, admittedly. Bassa would always tell him that legends were best left to storytellers. He looked up at Maxie and frowned, slightly embarrassed. “I appreciate the offer, sir. But I have to say that I’m not interested.”  
Maxie scowled. “Hmm. I suppose you’re satisfied with your current lot then? You don’t mind living like a vermin in the streets of a filthy village?”  
Now Sidney was frightened. And when he was scared, he became angry. “Sir. Please back off. My Absol will hurt you if he thinks you’re attacking me.”  
Maxie took a look at the cub and back at Sidney. He chuckled. “Suit yourself, boy.” He walked away slowly, not once looking back at Sidney.   
The memory of this conversation had not ever left Sidney’s mind since.

-

It was an unusually cool day. Steven woke up groggy and rested on a fallen log for a few hours, taking everything in. He’d let Skarmory do some hunting in the meantime and ate an oran berry cereal bar. Beldum had picked up some type of stone with its lone claw and seemed to be playing with it.   
Or maybe it was consuming it.  
Steven shrugged. Pokemon had to eat like anything else. Originally, he’d been leary of his partner’s carnivorous nature, but after seeing it slaughter several Geodude on the road, he’d been numbed. Maybe it was Beldum’s innocuous nature that put him off. Skarmory’s bloodlust was less disconcerting. It was the teeth, and the razor sharp wings that made Skarmory naturally intimidating.   
His flying companion descended with the grace of a cloud, barely flapping his wings. Poise seemed to come easily to the predatory bird, and it landed with a small cloud of dust--and with a small Zigzagoon trapped in its mandibled beak, still wriggling. Skarmory would never bring prey back fully dead. Almost as if he wanted to impress his owner.   
As much as it bothered Steven, he couldn’t change his pokemon’s habit. Or could he? The little Zigzagoon let out a squeak, held underneath Skarmory’s sharp talons. The bird looked at Steven expectantly, as if to say “Look at what I caught. Praise me.”  
Steven sighed. “Why can’t you just finish it off? Why does it have to suffer?”  
Skarmory cocked his head, waiting.   
“Just...kill it. Do it.”  
Skarmory waited for a few more seconds before clicking his sharp steel talons and slicing up the little Zigzagoon. It was gruesome. Steven clutched his stomach and grimaced. He’d have to find some way to train Skarmory. But that would have to wait. Because the Mauville skyline was on the horizon. 

-

“You believe yourself worthy of a gym challenge against me?” Juan said with his signature smirk.   
“Well, of course,” Wallace replied, with an equally cocky grin. “Seaking and I have been training our fins off.”  
“So I see. And I presume you’re interested in a solo battle?”  
“Yep. One on one. Me and Seaking against… your choice.” Wallace rolled up his sleeves, ready for whatever Juan had in mind.  
“Rest assured, my young apprentice. I won’t use Kingdra. This is only your first gym battle, after all.” For a moment, Juan pondered which pokemon would be best suited to test Wallace’s abilities. The boy had matured since coming under his tutelage, there was no doubt about it. He didn’t want to break his spirit. Which of his pokemon to select for the battle?   
“Juan, you ready?”   
Juan turned around and nodded. The two situated themselves across from one another, between them a rocky pool.   
“Seaking, I choose you!” Wallace said with a clumsy underhanded throw, releasing Seaking into the pool.   
Well, of course… Juan thought to himself with a smile. “Seadra!” He threw his pokeball with force and it bounced off the surface of the water back into his hand, releasing his Seadra into the pool of water.   
Wallace grit his teeth. That’s the one he uses to train with the other students. This wasn’t going to be an easy battle, not at all, even if Seadra wasn’t fully evolved.   
“Seaking! Use Horn Attack!”   
Seaking accelerated, charging with its glowing horn at Seadra.   
“Seadra, dodge it!”   
With very little effort, Seadra dodged Seaking’s attack, swimming out of its charging path. Damn it, Wallace thought.   
“It seems as if Seadra outspeeds Seaking. You’re going to have to try something else. Now, Seadra, Focus Energy!”  
Seadra froze in the water, its eyes glowing intensely before slowly fading back to normal.   
“Seaking, now, Horn Attack again, while it’s not moving!”  
Seaking went in for another charge, this time the distance between the two pokemon significantly smaller. Wallace was confident he could land a hit.   
“I imagined you would make a second attempt. You’re a stubborn one, Wallace. Seadra! Use a Bubble Beam to slow it down!”  
From its snout, Seadra let out a concentrated and powerful beam of bubbles, directly landing a sustained strike at Seaking’s forehead, and knocking it off balance. Seaking slowly regained its orientation, but Wallace was surprised at the potency of Seadra’s Bubble Beam.   
“You see, I used Focus Energy in order to make Seadra concentrate on its next few attacks. I always aim to finish a battle as quickly as I can. What Focus Energy does is heighten all of Seadra’s senses ever so slightly--so that he can sense his opponents’ weak spots. He must’ve sensed Seaking’s weak point and aimed his Bubble Beam there. Patience is of utmost importance in battle, Wallace.”  
“But you just said that you finish battles as quickly as possible!”  
“Correct. The most efficient way of finishing a battle is by waiting for your opponent to blunder through their attack--and then find the precise moment to decisively secure your victory.”  
Wallace groaned. “Fine. But this battle isn’t done yet.”  
Juan smiled with a glint in his eyes. “I wouldn’t have had it any other way, my apprentice.”  
“Seaking, use Supersonic!”   
From underneath the raucous waves of the pool, a shrill sound was emitted from Seaking, a warning song of sorts--and it was focused directly at Seadra. As a response to this auditory assault, Seadra began swimming erratically in circles.   
“Not so concentrated now, huh?”   
“Very good. You used a sonic attack that was difficult to dodge, and you effectively countered the effects of Focus Energy.” Very impressive, Wallace.   
“Seaking, use Horn Attack once more!”   
“Seadra, dodge it!”   
This time, Seadra was unable to heed Juan’s command. Seaking barrelled directly into Seadra with its razor sharp horn, smashing him into the wall of the pool.   
“A perfect strike! But we’re not finished yet. Seadra, be patient!” Juan knew that aiming for a direct assault would be hazardous, with Seadra’s state of confusion. It would be an erratic attack with potential for self-inflicted damage. He knew that Seadra could handle at least ONE more Horn Attack.  
Unless the next one was as robust as the last. That was unlikely.   
“Seaking, finish him off with ONE LAST HORN ATTACK!”  
Seaking charged in--and connected, crushing Seadra against the pool’s wall.   
Seadra was immobile.   
“Wait, did I win?” Wallace was incredulous.   
Juan smirked. “It appears so. Come receive your Rain Badge. You earned it.”  
Wallace yelped with excitement. Juan brought Seadra back into its pokeball. You performed magnificently, my partner.   
“We did it, Seaking. I KNEW we would. I had a feeling we would.”  
“A feeling?” Juan asked quizzically.  
Wallace nodded. “Yeah. Instincts.”

-

Wide open and pitch black, the cave beckoned to him. Staring down into the steep darkness, Steven eased down slowly into the depths, keeping his feet perpendicular to the descent. There was a musty smell, like autumn moss, permeating from the cavern. Curiosity might’ve killed the Skitty…. But I’m tougher than a Skitty.   
His shoes scraped against rock, creating an echo. Steven clicked his tongue a few times, enjoying the reverberation. The sound reminded him of his dad’s warehouse, huge and metallic.   
He drew a flashlight from his backpack once he felt the dusty floor beneath his feet. The cavern extended in two directions. Arbitrarily, Steven decided to go left. His hand traced the wall of the cave, collecting white dust. Despite his spelunking experiences, being alone made him feel intimidated.   
“Beldum,” Steven whispered, tossing his pokeball into the air. Beldum came out and the pokeball ricocheted back into his hand. The darkness was absolute, the only sanctuary being the soft light emitted by his flashlight and Beldum’s robotic chirping.   
With Beldum’s psychic abilities at play, Steven felt considerably more comfortable in the dark, oppressive environment. Skarmory...would be of no use. He would inevitably panic and fly into a wall, or worse, attack Steven on accident. Razor sharp wings flapping in such a confined space--a mistake was inevitable.   
A loud chirp. Unmistakably curious.   
Something.  
Steven pointed his flashlight at Beldum. “What’s up?”   
For the next five minutes, Beldum led the way and Steven trailed behind. The cavern became colder, a sharp contrast to the sweaty humidity of the surface. It felt like natural air conditioning. A relief, if anything.   
Beldum stopped.   
“What is it?”  
Without any preamble, Beldum rammed its claw into the wall.   
Steven gasped. “What the heck are you DOING?” he whispered frantically.  
Totally ignored. Beldum continued picking away at the rock. Even with the flashlight, Steven couldn’t make out what Beldum was aiming for. “What are you trying to find?”   
Bones.   
Bones?   
After another smash, the dent in the wall revealed nothing short of an archaeological miracle.   
It was a claw fossil. It left Steven with his jaw at his feet.   
Bones. 

-

There was a Taillow on his face. It peacefully cooed while Matty slept.   
Matty woke up to the feeling of feathers in his lips, and screamed. The pokemon quickly escaped, but Matty sat there for the next ten minutes, hyperventilating. He hadn’t eaten in two days, and he looked for Scott and Rhonda to beg one of them for food.   
Where were Scott and Rhonda?  
His heart froze. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. He pinched his leg. “Scott? Just come out, I know you’re there.”  
Silence. Nothing but the swaying of the trees and the chirping of flying pokemon. “Rhonda… please.” He hated how pathetic his voice sounded, but he was exhausted. There was nothing to do about it. “Please. Please.”   
He let out a guttural, throaty shriek.   
“PLEASE!”   
Everything was gone. The tent was gone. The food was gone. His traveling companions… gone. Nothing but his cargo shorts and long-sleeve shirt remained. His clothes and his backpack--and that was it.   
Matty began to heave--short, quick breaths at first, but descending quickly into frantic sobs. The forest ambience made him sweat profusely. Fervent panic clutched at his fragile heart, refusing to let go for even a moment.   
He stopped moving. The gravity of his situation came in for a second wave, overwhelming his senses. There was sweat on his brow, and filth underneath his fingernails, like mold hidden underneath the crust of the loaf.   
A howl echoed through the forest. Several howls joined in. Poochyena perhaps? They weren’t so bad. They weren’t aggressive enough to attack an adult.   
A howl like no other reigned supreme--towering over the others. The Poochyena subsided into whimpering yelps. The alpha--one of the Mightyena in the pack--had declared the hunt.  
Matty gulped.


End file.
